Monday Bear

So I keep just barely missing 11: 11. This has happened twice in the past 13 hours.

That said, someone told me recently, “Liz, you just aren’t as funny as you used to be now that you’re in love.”
Excuse me, sir, but really, was I -ever- funny? Cute, maybe.

“Liz, you just aren’t as cute as you used to be now that you’re in love.”
That would make more sense if I was the type to doll (or gussy, if you will) myself up. When most women fall in love, they stop wearing makeup, never fix their hair, dress frumpily, and gain 72 pounds. Their reasoning behind this is that they have already “caught” a man… they don’t have to look good anymore. “Now I’ve got you where I want you, now I’m going to be a big ugly lardass.”

Au Contraire, mon frere, but I’m not gaining weight (I’m losing, in fact), and I’m no less frumpy than I was to begin with. In fact, I even put on makeup a few times when Matt was here. Hell, I even shaved my legs. It’s not that I’m afraid of losing him– he loves me, and he wouldn’t leave me because I’m frumpy–, but the reason I do this is because I care about him, and I don’t want him to have a fat, ugly girlfriend.

The moral of this story is that if you really loved your boyfriend, you wouldn’t be fat.

That said, even though I do love you, Matt, that is no promise that I will shave my legs on a regular basis. I do, however, vow to shave my legs at least once a week. I’ve never done that for anyone else.

That’s love right there.

This page is funny. It looks like Green Liz is looking disdainfully at her own bloggings. Oh, that Liz.

So I’m going to start scrapbooking, because, as the radio commercial on 107.5 says, it’s fun, it’s creative, and everybody’s doing it!

It’s creative, and everybody’s doing it.

Well, I would scrapbook if I could get Katie Stover to give me back every damn picture I’ve ever taken in my whole high school career. She didn’t even use them.

So last night at rehearsal, Jared, Michele, and I were sitting on the possum couch. I was frantically looking through my script, Jared was lazily rubbing a glue stick all over his face, and Michele was wildly stuffing her face with Doritos. I took a sniff of that glue stick, and it was, as Jared said, asprin. Michele said, “Lemme sniff it.” She did and continued munching away on her stinky cheese- powdered crunchy snacks. Jared continued to rub said glue/ asprin stick all over his face.
Jared: It’s homeopathic.
Liz: More like homopathic.
Michele: Bmph tcht! (Translation: Blog that!)

So Michele pointed out that I had a boob in my blog. No, don’t get excited. There was no nipple slip (although I do suck at covering, apparently). There is a boob in my car. I found it. Can you find it? It’s like Where’s Waldo, except even better. The Boob Version.

“Where’s Waldo?”
- Matt, Re: Looking for my dad at my graduation. My mom laughed.

I wish I could have seen him say that.

One summer I checked out every Where’s Waldo book the Obion County Library had. Take that, summer reading program.

HOLY MAN, I’m craving Los Portales salsa and tortillas.

I really can’t wait til Los Pinos opens up.
“Man, I’m really craving some Pinos.”
“Me too.”

So I’ve been sorting through my music, and this is what I’ve found:
“This is a 44. Caliber love letter straight from my heart.”
Bah! hxc is so dumb : )

My music is awesome, your music sucks. mybeliefsrule.org. Blog blog blog.
That was for Dave.

So I just got out of the shower and started blogging. I thought of alot to blog in the shower. Not blog in the shower, but thought in the shower, about blogging. Before this morning, I hadn’t showered since Saturday morning. Why shower. There’s no one to shower for.

No offense, people I’ve seen since Saturday. But you know. I’m nasty.

But speaking of nasty and showering… no, not that…
Speaking of nasty and showering, there’s been this towel on this floor of my bedroom for about a week now. It smells like Matt and mildew. So it smells like Matthew.

Chris Shelton is White and Asian. So he’s Caucasian.

The other night on TLC, there was this show called 101 Things Removed From the Human Body. It wasn’t as interesting as it sounded. I fell asleep. The only interesting part was where this marlin stabbed this woman in the fake boob and the fake boob saved her life.

I’m going to get fake boobs in case I ever get stabbed by a pointy shark.

Hey Lindsay! Why are you dressed like a fucking cat? What’s wrong with you? What the hell is going on?!?!

Hey Brad, why do you have glitter all over your penis?!?

Oh, and Lindsay, CATS DON’T WEAR WATCHES.

I told that 13 year old slut cat that cats don’t wear bras. She laughed. Then I said, “No, seriously. They don’t.” Then she looked confused.

Remember when Kry’s favourite band was Good Charlotte? Ha! That’s how we met.
“Hey, I like your shirt. Good Charlotte is awesome.”
And his heart went pitter patter.
I was 13.

No, seriously, remember how good they used to be? Then at the end of my sophomore year, everybody was like “GOOD CHARLOTTE GOOD CHARLOTTE.” And I got -soooo- mad. Remember? I burned all of my Good Charlotte shirts and things. I think I sold my CD to On Cue, though.
First it was Good Charlotte, and then it was My Chemical Romance. I have a feeling it’s going to be Weezer next. They got pretty damn close to it with Make Believe, but Rivers has hinted that it might be their last album. You know, quit while you’re ahead. But he also said that about Maladroit. But even if they do do the unthinkable, they’ll still be my favourite band.

That’s love right there.

Oh, or it could be Anti- Flag.

Wait, nevermind. It was Greenday.

So just for the record, I am still the tiniest bit ana. Duh. Anyone who knows me at all knows that. So when a guy is trying to quit smoking, do you offer him another cigarette? No. Especially when his lungs have to be completely tar- free in 3 weeks in front of 300 people a night.

That was a really bad analogy. Just don’t call me fat.

Unless I ask you, and I am, indeed, fat. But I try not to ask people that.

Pretty soon I’ll get to change my calendar, and I’ll get a new pinup girl and a new martini recipe. Yessss.

So I think I’m going to get Holly to burn me her Wicked Soundtrack.

There’s been an outbreak of STI’s in retirement- age people, and they’re blaming it on Viagra. That does make sense. But you just shouldn’t blame everything on Viagra. Name two bad things that it ever did to you. (No, seriously. If it ever did something bad to you, please tell me. I think this will be funny. Comment it.)

“Oh, I think I pulled something.”

But Matt brought up that since I’m going to be an Ob/ Gyn, I’m going to have to deal with old people STD’s. Before Viagra, this wouldn’t have happened, because if you have stopped having sex, you get to stop going to the Gyno. I guess when God closese a door, he opens a window.

So in conclusion, there’s a weiner rustling around on my bed. Her name is Trixie. And I’m sorry this blog sucked. It was kind of purged. I’ll put my clothes back on now.

This entry was posted on Tuesday, May 30th, 2006 at 5:17 PM and is filed under Awkward Scenarios, Breasts, Dance, Dating, Family, Game, Music, Nasty, Old People, Philosophy, Secks, Television. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.