So I haven’t gotten much sleep in the past few days. This should make for a nice delusional blogging experience.
howdah n A seat or covered pavilion on the back of an elephant or camel.
I’ve got to get me one of those. (more…)
So first of all, I’m feeling alot better about this play. I even wore spike heels today in hopes that I would trip running down the stairs, but after we went through our lines a few times, I made sure to walk extra carefully.
So you all need to come see it the last 2 weekends of June. It’s full of British humour, innuendo, and Liz in her “smalls.” I, prefer to call them “skivvies” or “underpants,” but the script calls them “smalls.” I always thought he was a rapper.
A rapper like Matthew. I mean, I -am- one of those rap guys’ girlfriends. (more…)
So remember last March when I had to go to the ER because my mom found me passed out in the bathroom in a huge puddle of the products of my own various bodily functions? Welp, that happened again. And here I sit. Blogging. For you assholes.
Welp, this happened late Wednesday night, except my mom came in before I passed out. I think that this time was worse, but mom says that’s just because I can remember most of this time. I remember:
a. Being temporarily blind
b. Wanting to slit my wrists
c. Various fluids coming uncontrollably from a couple of my orifaces.
Oh, and I passed out in the bathtub. (more…)
So do I really look like a rabid bunny when I laugh?
So. Bunnies are cute. and fluffy. much like myself. and those Matt dogs.
I would like to thank Melanie Holis for making me not look like Cinderella Barbie. For dress rehearsal, my skirt was some kind of purpley blue lame’ irridescent BULLSHIT. I looked like a 4 year old playing dress up. I’m serious, I had Barbie clothes made out of that same material. But Melanie so graciously stayed up into the wee hours of the morning and made me a whole new costume. Ah, Melanie. (more…)
So I cooked tonight. Not only did I cook tonight, but I also cooked this afternoon. For breakfast, I had a granola bar and a piece of cheese. That’s not cooking.
For lunch, I cooked ravioli from a can for the girls whom I babysit. The youngest one had yogurt.
For dinner, I had an omelette. I ran a poll, and few people responded. You bastards.
It was either Macaroni and Cheese or an omelette.
Here are my results:
Lia: A quiche.
Matt: One inside the other (either macaroni inside the omelette or egg inside each noodle)
Matt: Omelette
Zephyr: (after minutes of contemplation) Omelette
Savannah: Macaroni and Cheese
Lindsay: Omelette.
So Omelette ’twas. Matthew had to talk me through it though. I used extra virgin olive oil to make me feel pure/ fancy.
My eggs stayed flacid for a while. It took them a while to… erect… get firm… Then I turned the heat on the burner up, and they got less gooey. Maybe I should have given them some ViEGGra. HA!
Matt said use 2 or 4 eggs, so I used 3. I should have used 2. I gave the rest to my cat.
I cut my thumb on a knife.
Then my egg ripped when I was folding it. Instead of patching it with wet egg as I was advised, I just left it and hoped I didn’t get Ecoli.
*dies of Ecoli*
Just kidding. April Fools.
That’s like Email, except worse.
I’m pregnant.
April Fools.
So Matt’s mom has been bugging him to bootleg Ice Age for her. I got him to finally do it, and you know what? It’s Spanish! HAHAH. You know what else? She’s not a Mexican! Hahaha!
Have any of you ever seen Splash! with Tom Hanks? I promise it exists.
I like names and titles of things with exclamation points in them.
Like !!!
So Micah, the middle child who I babysat who is autistic, asked me if I was naked. She was sitting on my lap.
So dance class went well this morning. It was hiphopalicious. Erik came by, and we decided we aren’t wearing white in the ballet. Because we’re fat. We’re wearing blue.
We’re working on our pas des deux Tuesday night at 7. Call me at 6 30 and remind me.
I want a red tutu. I think that would be… sexy?
I kind of thought about naming off different euphamisms for masturbation, but
that’s too dirty.
Matthew: i love you too!
this movie is pretty funny
a beaver just said “daaaaaaaaaamn”
Liz: hahahhahahhahahahah
ooooh i get it!
beaver, dam..n!
hahahahhahaha
like where they live!
I’m too much like my own mother sometimes. Speaking of my mother, she’s at Whaler’s Catch with Jeff. Well, now she’s probably getting a tattoo. The one of the cat. What a dork. I told her what a Monroe was this morning, and I think she wants to get one now. She wants me to get my eyebrow pierced… I just don’t know. Maybe, but what if it looks gay?
No offense to the gays or the pierced.
What did the fish say when he swam into the brick wall?
“Dam!”
My daddy told me that one. It was my favourite joke when I was a little girl, because I could say “damn” and not get in trouble, because in speech, they don’t know if you added the N or not.
Always keep ‘em guessing.
Speaking of, where the hell was Emily this morning at ballerina?
So anywho, the whole dam/damn thing always reminds me of Bekah and Vegas Vacation. Because she loves that part of the movie just as much as I do. That movie is so bad, yet so good.
Kind of like my music.
Erik guessed that I weighed 120. He was 6 pounds too low. Have I gained weight since I’ve seen him? Garsh, I hope not.
So this is my mom for you:
Liz: I mentioned this a few weeks ago, but I’m letting you know that Matthew and I are going to be living together next semester.
Mom: *hands over ears* LALALLALALALALALALALLALALALALALA
So remember when all the interns gave me a tattoo on my back? Here’s the picture of it:
Also, Matt made this. I really want kids. Eventually.
I’m pretty sure that’s all. Except Erick had two beds upon which to sleep and opted for the couch.
And I got a blazer for $1.97. It was originally $34.00. And Matt’s mom got a skirt on the same rack for $3.00. Go us go.
So in conclusion, I just remembered that in the 5th grade, Brandy wrote in my yearbook: “Don’t eat fried chicken on Sundays.”
So sometimes when I brake, my car makes a sound that doesn’t sound kosher.My mum did the cutest thing today. She dated a paper, not 2/14/06, but 2/14/ <36. Because it’s Valenties day.
Oh, and from now on, Valentines Day = VD. Always.
So yesterday, I went to ballet, and oh, the delight that my little Sarah brings me. She reminds me so much of myself, only younger. She’s so much cooler than I was when I was 13, though. Alot taller, too. Anywho, I looked a hot mess, and I took my hair down, and she said, “Your hair looks like a lesbian.” It did, I suppose. I thought that was quite hilarious. Then she said, “My hair is very straight.” Actually, it’s curly. But unlesbian.
Steve McGee is so funny. He’s soooo emo sometimes, with his hoodie and all, but most of the time he’s a goofass.
Oh yeah, ballet, I forgot. My feelings were hurt. I’m a good dancer, dammit. I’m not afraid to move out of my comfort zone, unlike you, you… comfortable…hag.
But on the bright side, sometimes I go running in the morning. I was wearing the shorts that Zephyr left at my house… on the very bottom of the leg, they read in about 1/4″ print “SAVE THE REEF.” What a great place for an environmental protection message:
LOOK AT MY LEGS! I’M WEARING COTTON RUNNING SHORTS! AHHHH!
…
…(and by the way… protect the reef…)
…
But I was wearing those and tube socks (no, I wasn’t cold, I was running, you idiot). And our little neighbor girls who kind of look like boys (Zephyr can second that) who always leave their bikes in the middle of my fucking driveway had built a snowman in the middle of the sidewalk. Well, an ugly dog across the street had caught my attention. I’m talking UGLY. So of course, I wasn’t looking where I was going. I suddenly ran face first into the bigass snowman, knocking its head off and messing up its torso. It wasn’t completely destroyed… until I tried to fix it. I just thought of all the times that those girls leave their bikes in my driveway, so I knocked it the rest of the way over. I took a picture of it today, and the alcoholic who owns the house thought I was taking a picture of her. Pshno.
Oh, and I looked/ felt like a million bucks, as Zephyr’s mom would say, in my new leotard. Woot.
Maybe it’s because of the 5 pounds.
Oh, and I will never ever EVER be in a sorority. Ever. Are those girls still in middle school? WTF, mate?
Oh, and here’s that germ:
He’s sitting atop my wrinkled bedsheets. Isn’t he cutesy? Certainly very cutesy. He’s half Matthew Callis’s.
So in conclusion, I have to be in 2 places at once tonight. Work and rehearsal.
*splits her atoms*
Oh, and by the way, next band I’m in…
Will have punctuation.
Like Panic! At the Disco.
Sex, and Gummybears-
Are you supposed to pause after Panic!? Becuase I do. And I exclaim it. And I do jazz hands.
Panic! At the Disco.
So last week, Holly and I were planning on doing something with Steve last weekend. She calls me Saturday day and asks if I would go to the movies with them, and I comply. She says, “Good, because X is coming with us.” WHOA. X is a guy with whom she used to be friends, until he fell in love with her. Actually, X is how she met Steve. Anywho, when Holly has her cell phone open, it doesn’t ring. It just picks up when someone calls. Apparently. (Like, Oh my gosh, somebody killed my parents). But Holly and Steve were talking about going to a movie with me when X called. They heard something coming from her phone, and she picked up and he said, “Oh! I want to go!” So of course, they had to let him go. And called me. As soon as she told me he was going with, I called her a bitch. I love her. So we went out, and Holly painted me a painting that says, “Let Art Commence!” HahahAHA. That’s just so funny. No, it isn’t an inside joke. It’s just funny.
Before he got to Steve’s, I told Steve and Holly (Heve) that I am NOT sitting by X in the theatre. We will sit Liz Holly X Steve or Liz Steve Holly X or anything that does not involve his sitting beside me. When we got there, and the only seats there were in sets of two… no way was I sitting next to him. So we went to Fulton to get some wine and drove back to Martin to see the 9:00 show. You know in what fucking order we were sitting? Steve, Holly, Liz, X. WTF, mate? So we made Steve and X go get us some M&Ms, and I sat in Steve’s seat, hoping X wouldn’t notice. He did.
So after the movie, at which I cried, and Holly said, “Oh, Liz, you really are a girl!”, I saw Hurt and Stover, some kids whom I haven’t seen in like 2 years.
My cat is sitting on the bed, purring. Karen brought her cat to rehearsal today. Delinda said, “Like we haven’t seen a fucking cat before.” I like her, but I think she’s bitter with the world.
So when we got back to Steve’s apartment, we had Pinot Noir and played Scrabble. I’ll admit, I drank a little too much. I just really really like Pinot Noir. However, I won Scrabble. Steve is an English majour and I was a little drunk, and I won Scrabble. *gloat*
Speaking of majour, I got a few points with the word “labia.” Then Steve and I began to talk about labia majoura and labia minora. Wouldn’t it be cool if you could majour in labia? I should, since I’m going to be an Ob/Gyn. Screw Premed. Labia all the way. You know what? Not only will I majour in labia, but I’ll also minor in it. I just love labia. Majour in labia, minor in labia, and hell, all of my extra- curriculars: Labia.
Amniotic fluid, amniotic fluid.
But Holly is always trying to get me to make out with someone, and when X was in the bathroom, she asked if I would make out with him. Of course, I yelled, “No! He looks like a turtle!” He then became embarrassed and left. I didn’t know why he left unil Monday.
But yeah, of course, I spent the night on Steve’s couchbedcouch. In Holly’s Jammies. Her jammies had little chicks on the pants, and the t shirt she gave me was something about cheerleaders. She used to be a cheerleader. Dave : )
But I asked if I could sleep with them, and they said no. Last time I slept on the couchbedcouch, I was naked. Steve hasn’t unfolded the couchbedcouch since. But they did let me have the llove llama. I wonder if they take the llove llama off the bed before they do it. I wouldn’t.
I woke up at 5 something the next morning. I thought it was almost 9 for some reason. Weird, huh? Yeah. Too much Pinot Noir. I was nauseated. I guess 4 glasses is too much for Liz. I had Heve take me home.
Do you have any raisins?
Tony complained about my lack of blogging. Blog blog blog.
“Dammit, Linda!”
- Jared.
She always gets in the way of Wade’s ass. Always. Her and her pink jogging pants. Damn you, Linda.
Cats is going to be spectacular. JR complimented me earlier today. (Okay, JR will compliment anything with T and A, but that’s beside the point.) I’m going to gloat a little. Prep yourself: JR told me that he can tell I’m working hard, and that I’m “carrying the show” and that I’m “emovite.” I just really like being appreciated. I had to deal with Nancy, and you loyal bloggers know how I am with her. She makes me feel like I don’t exist. She looks over me. She doesn’t even notice me. How does someone not notice me? I’m not being pretentious, but hell, I’m noticable!
I had alot to talk about last night, but I was too sleepy. I hung out with Alley Jo this weekend. She has 2 names.
OH! Miss Dolly!
You know, I visit her at the nursing home. We tease her about Ernesto, the physical therapist. He’s semi- attractive, and all of the old ladies have a crush on him, esp. Miss Dolly. Well, she doesn’t always remember that her husband is dead, so one day, we were talking about her having an affair with Ernesto, and Hog said, “There’s nothing wrong with having one on the side.” Miss Dolly replied, “There’s nothing wrong with having one on top, either!” What a dirty old lady : ) And then another time we were teasing her about it, and she said, “That used to be a sin!” I said, “Miss Dolly, it still is.” She said, “Well, I’m Church of Christ. I don’t sin.” Hahaha, she’s -so- cute.
Miss Georgie is getting alot better. I think I’m the only one who listens to her and pays attention. She’s stuttering alot less, and she smiles more. She makes me laugh. She wants to run away with me, I think. She’s always undressing her dolls. She’s a sweet lady. I love her. I’ll be upset when she dies.
So in conclusion, Dustyn is a nice kid. He’s not mormon.
So I was thinking:
It’s really funny when people pronounce “peanuts” like PEA- nits, with an accent on the PEA. It sounds alot like “penis”.
Mike Ross from Dove Enterprise does that:
“I love PEA-nits. PEA-nits PEA-nits PEAnits.”
Fudgecicles: Is the first C silent or not? I believe it is. It rolls off of the tongue much more delightfully if the first C is silent. Cilent. Laverne DiFazio says it like that. I thought she was so cool. In the 6th grade, I embroidered L’s on all of my solid coloured tops and everyone made fun of me. Years later, monograms are cool again. If I was indeed a sheep, I would break out my 6th grade cardigans. But no.
“The S is silent, stupid.”
I’m so glad Jared has a myspace account now. I’ve been wanting him to get one for ages now, but I’ve never said anything to him about it. He read my mind. See, communication isn’t important. Communication, schommunication.
Note: It is entirely difficult to relay sarcasm through text. The last who sentences in the last paragraph were chock full of the stuff.
Jackson’s radio station, the Rocket, is having Rocketoberfest. Excuse me, but Rocktoberfest would be much more effective. Zephyr pointed this out. She’s a genius. Or the Rocket people are idiots. Or both.
So I was reading blogs earlier today, and I notice bad grammar. Bad grammar, run- ons (see above paragraph), and misspellings are okay if it is purposeful, used to prove a point, or there is no other way to relay the exact message.
“She has got some majour problems”
I wonder who she is talking about.
Oh, as I eavesdrop more closely, I realize they are talking about the chick with the kid. I agree, Kim.
So I bought a new purse yesterday. Not that I care that the old Barney lunchbox was embarrassing Erick and Eric, but it was just getting old. Sometimes I would be walking to the car and it would come unlatched, causing the contents to tumble to the concrete surface beneath my feets.
This weekend, everyone at the shop is going to Paducah for the hair show. I think that it would be sooooo much fun, but Ben, Liz, and Troy aren’t going. I don’t think Ben and Troy care, quite frankly.
I miss my old friends. I think I may call a few of them up.
I mean, I love my current friends, but you understand how it is.
I have a wicked headache. I need an asprin/ massage. Someone should give me a massage. Now.
Nobody showed up.
Dead breast.