So you know what makes for a funny-slash-awkward time? When the guy you are sort of dating meets your best friend and her boyfriend for the first time (in addition to the fact that this is the first time you've ever laid eyes on him, too) (your friend's boyfriend, not the guy you are sort of dating, although that would make for a good story too, no?) and the bestfriend's boyfriend - now called BFB - goes to the guy you're kinda-sorta dating "So... you're the infamous (insert name)" like totally out of the blue. Like, ummm, dude, I just met you, let alone this guy, so what exactly do you know about him?? OMG too funny.

ALSO, another funny-slash-awkward time? When you overhear the following conversation, and you happen to kinda-sorta know the guy...

GUY and GIRL in line at the coffee shop, trying to sober up, I assume, just as I am. GUY BEHIND THE COUNTER obviously knows the GIRL, and says to her:
"GIRL, you should have like a calendar for me, with different guys' pictures on it so I can keep them straight."

HELLLLLLLLLO. Awkward! And then GUY goes "Well.... that makes me feel real [sic] good." Cuz seriously, what do you say to that?!?! I tried to make sympathetic eye-contact with him, but I think he avoided it, and rightfully so. I would have done the exact same thing. Except the point where he proceeded to the couch and made out with her anyway, I would have been crying in the bathroom. Subtle differences, not important.

Anyway, so my week off is like 40% over. It's kinda depressing, although it does mean I'm that much closer to a couple of sweet ass vaca's I have lined up. Holla!

Ummm what else? I got Ugg slippers for Christmas, I really think it changed the quality of my life, in all seriousness. Now, I think of time in a much more simple way, much like most of the world uses BC and AD... for me, though, it's more like BUS and AUS, for "Before Ugg Slippers" and "After Ugg Slippers." I've said it before and I'll say it again, they're like a wet dream for your feet.

Chew on that.

Honestly! This will be my last list/post or questionaire/post or whatever it is. I promise. It's the same thing I posted last year.

1. What did you do in 2005 that you'd never done before?
Took a business trip. (Lame!) It was to Mexico, though, and I flew out there by myself (met up with my co-worker there though) but I officially felt like an adult at that point.

2. Did you keep your new years' resolutions, and will you make more for next year?
Fuck that.

3. Did anyone close to you give birth?
Nope, yet another year in which I know no one who has to deal with hemmeroids and breast pumps.

4. Did anyone close to you die?
No.

5. What countries did you visit?
Mexico, see aforementioned business trip. Kinda borrrrring.

6. What would you like to have in 2006 that you lacked in 2005?
Resolve, attitude, fancy jewelry.

7. What date from 2005 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?
It's kinda sad, but I don't really have one! I'm running through the months, and nothing's popping out at me. :(

8. What was your biggest achievement of the year?
Being employed? Paying off my credit cards... but that goes hand-in-hand with #6 (see: Resolve) as I promptly began charging things again and once again have the cc debt. I'm such a Debbie!

9. What was your biggest failure?
Okay, I guess I got a little ahead of myself, cuz that was a failure. Also, I dropped out of a class I signed up for at the local community college because I "didn't have time to prepare for the class". Such bullshit.

10. Did you suffer illness or injury?
No. I did throw up in a bar once. I felt sick and just knew that I had to ralph, so I lined the floor of the bathroom with a couple of layers of toilet paper, ditto to the toilet, and proped my elbows on the john and puked the last 4 meals up. Nice story!!

11. What was the best thing you bought?
Two pair of fabulous pants that make me look like I have a great ass.

12. Whose behavior merited celebration?


13. Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed?

14. Where did most of your money go?
Credit card and student loan payments.

15. What did you get really, really, really excited about?
Kissing a boy who gives me butterflies.

16. What song will always remind you of 2005?


17. Compared to this time last year, are you:
i. happier or sadder? indifferent
ii. thinner or fatter? same, i think
iii. richer or poorer? richer, holler at a 401k and salary!

18. What do you wish you'd done more of?
Exercise

19. What do you wish you'd done less of?
Moping and waxing depression

20. How will you be spending Christmas?
In Saginaw with my dad's sister's family

21. Who did you spend the most time on the phone with?
Kare won this award again in 2005. Although, 9 times out of 10, when my work phone rings, it's Roxanne.

24. What was your favorite TV program?
Laguna Beach.

25. Do you hate anyone now that you didn't hate this time last year?
Naw.

26. What was the best book you read?
The Lovely Bones, Lucky, both by Alice Sebold

27. What was your greatest musical discovery?
Keane, Death Cab for Cutie

28. What did you want and get?
A new winter jacket

29. What did you want and not get?
To buy a house (see how the thing I wanted and got was trivial, and the thing I wanted and did not get is like a Big Thing? My priorities are reeeeeally straight.)

30. What was your favorite film of this year?
Before Sunset (first time viewed this year, I'm the judge and I say that is ok even though it's an '04 film)

31. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?
Called in sick to work, went and got a massage and lunch at my favorite sandwich shop, where I splurged and got a milkshake. Ummm that's kind of a sad story.

32. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?
To have enjoyed going to work more...

33. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2005?
Accept my size and buy clothes that actually fit well. That, and I'm still all about accessorizing! Holla

34. What kept you sane?
Actually, living with my family...

35. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most?
Gwenyth and Britney, Heath and Zach

36. What political issue stirred you the most?
This whole Capital Punishment thing... I don't get it?

37. Who did you miss?
Allison!

38. Who was the best new person you met?
My co-workers... Lori, Cat, Lambros, Bob, Jack, Julie, Luis, Mark, Nick, Ian, Jennifer. They're really cool people.

39. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2005:
It's really important that you like what you do... because if not, 8-5 will go by so fucking slowly it's not even funny. It's not a lesson-LEARNED, per se, as it is a lesson-REALIZED, as I have not yet learned from this situation as I am still in it...

40. Quote a song/movie lyric that sums up your year:

YES: Jimmy's XMas Party 05... hot cheese poured on the chest, Jimmy almost being sessually assulted and my coming to the rescue (it doesn't happen often, so I gotta brag when I can...), and Brussel Sprouts pop.
NO: Death Cramps for Cutie waking me up this morning at 8am, and not going away any time soon. Begone! uterine contractions from hell!
HEY: I need a haircut!
HO: Yo mamma!
HIGH: ...is not my tolerance level for jerk-off drivers.
LOW: ... is my bank account, woe be to it.
HELL: Sitting on Santa's lap,
NO: way am I doing you a favor if it involves 1) me putting on real clothes 2) if it involves me moving 3) if it involves me going outside 4) if it involves me in any way. I'm a cold-hearted bitch!

Alas, that 'list' is through, with nary a funny or enlightening quip. HOWEVER. It did highlight a few good things. But actually. I don't want to elaborate.

My boob is itchy, in other news, but moreso the area that connects to the arm. My feet are freezing. Winter air is harsh.

It's nice to have your sweater smell
like someone else still
the next day. Like an olfactory reminder
of what could be, or what already is.

I've become this weird person who cannot drink alcohol. I have a drink or two, and am done, sans buzz, sans giddy, salacious behaviour, sans slight headache the next morning (the perk). I need to holler at some Holiday Eggnog! or Jesus-y Brandy Slush! Or a Stoli Martini! The shakes are gone (I learned all about DTs last night...) but my psychological addiction to alcohol lingers...

Mmmm, good word... lingers...

Kinda reminds me of ligers!

I totally hate it when you are running late, and you know you're running late, and something happens that will make you even more late and you cannot stop it. Kinda like the scene from Love Actually where Alan Rickman is trying to buy his secretary some jewelry while his wife is in the other part of the department store, and Mr. Bean is taking foreeeeever wrapping up the necklace and he's just watching him in agony praying to holy hell that he would just hurry the fuck up? Yeah, kinda like that. That might just be the worst feeling ever, worse than blue balls (so I'm told), worse than finding your dog dead at the side of the road, worse the seeing someone else take the last serving of mashed potatoes at Thanksgiving dinner.

Anyway.

So lately I've been very hot/cold, on/off, here/there. It sucks, I'm so indecisive and wishy-washy, I don't know how anyone puts up with it.

I have officially been graduated and have been at my job for 1 year. What the hell?! I love how my original plans "I'll live with my parents until February, March maybe" has turned into over one year, and I still get yelled at to clean my room. Granted, it is a disaster, but still. The house hunting/mortgage banker hunting process is a little scary, so I retreat and ignore it, as usual! But you know, whatever.

Sooo, New Year's Eve plans? Are there any??

Okay, I'm kinda obsessed with surveys right this second. What am I? Twelve?!?! Do you SEE my excessive use of punctuation here!?!?! What the hell is going on? I'm confused...

WHO'S BED DID YOU SLEEP IN LAST NIGHT?
Mine

WHAT COLOR SHIRT ARE YOU WEARING?
Hot Pink with purple argyle (so hot right now)

HAVE YOU MADE OUT WITH ANYONE ON YOUR FRIEND'S LIST <-- this refers to myspace.com
No

HOW MANY PEOPLE ARE ON YOUR FRIENDS LIST?
12

HOW MANY PEOPLE ON YOUR LIST DO YOU KNOW 'IN REAL LIFE'?
10

WHAT ARE YOU LISTENING TO RIGHT NOW?
The sound of water (and poop and pee and toilet paper) running through the pipes in my house.

WHAT ARE YOUR NICKNAMES
Smitty, L.Smith, Linds

WHAT COLOR ARE YOUR UNDIES RIGHT NOW?
Royal Blue

DO YOU HAVE ANY PETS?
H-Yes! Zoe-ster, and DONT YOU FORGET IT.

WHAT'S YOUR DAD AND MOM'S MIDDLE NAME?
Alan & Patricia

MOST RECENT MOVIE THAT YOU WATCHED?
Run Lola Run

NAME 3 THINGS THAT YOU HAVE ON YOU AT ALL TIMES.
freckles, chapstick, boobies

WHEN'S THE LAST TIME YOU SMOKED MARIJUANA?
well over a year ago. unfort.

NAME A TEACHER YOU HAD THE HOTS FOR!
The student teacher at Munich Internation School... the scruffy beard, mmm...

IS THERE ANYONE ON YOUR LIST YOU SECRETLY WOULD GET IT ON WITH?
Oh yes

HOW MUCH CASH DO YOU HAVE ON YOU RIGHT NOW?
$NADA!

WHO'S THE 4TH PERSON ON YOUR RECEIVED CALL LIST?
Janey

WHAT'S YOUR MAIN RINGTONE ON YOUR PHONE?
Clocks by Coldplay

WHAT WERE YOU DOING AT MIDNIGHT LAST NIGHT?
Fraternizing

WHAT DID THE LAST TEXT MESSAGE ON YOUR CELL PHONE SAY?
no plans yet... i'm not feeling well

TEN random things you might not know about me

1.- I've never been to the hospital.
2.- I lost the 8th grade spelling bee qualification by spelling the word "circuit" like this: Circit
3.- I rarely burp, but when I do it smells like gross food
4.- When I lived in Germany in 6th grade, we had a bidet, but I used it to shave my legs.
5.- I used to have a crush on Lee from 1-800-Lee-Free when I was like 3
6.- I would probably turn down the offer to go bungee jumping, because I don't trust elasticity.
7.- I thought those Asian movies where there's really bad dubbing and the lips don't move to the dialog "King Kong" movies… it's "Kung Fu."
8.- My left "ring" toe is sideways.
9.- I wrote myself letters when I was younger, and sealed them with "Do Not Open Until [next year's date] and would always open them a few weeks early.
10.- I spent at least 1 Friday night in college typing up logic puzzles on my computer.

NINE places I've visited

1.- Ireland
2.- Scotland
3.- Canary Islands
4.- Aruba
5.- Washington DC
6.- Mackinac Island
7.- Greece
8.- Hungary
9.- Grenada

EIGHT ways to win my heart

1.- Attitude/Confidence
2.- A nice sweater and/or beard
3.- Birkenstock clogs
4.- Genuine-osity
5.- Keeping your cool
6.- Introducing me to your mom
7.- Scraping my car windows
8.- Wine with dinner

SEVEN things I want to do before I die

1.- Marathon without shitting my pants
2.- Marriage
3.- Children
4.- Finish my books
5.- Get a tan
6.- Donate blood
7.- Travel to Africa

SIX things I'm afraid of

1.- Anything medical
2.- Being alone
3.- Being with someone
4.- Walking to my car alone at night
5.- Guns
6.- Coming home at night to a big, empty house all by myself

FIVE things I don't like

1.- Brocolli
2.- Being put on the spot
3.- Diarrhea
4.- Sweat stains
5.- Generally, driving

FOUR ways to turn me off

1.- Act like an asshole
2.- Be an annoying drunk
3.- Be selfish
4.- Wear your heart on your LAPEL

THREE things I do every day

1.- Yawn
2.- Shit
3.- Eat

TWO things that make me happy

1.- Soy Lattes
2.- Giving

ONE thing on my mind right now

1.- Sex - duh!

There's this spot on my back that, when I scratch it, feels a sensation down by my hip. It's the most bizarre thing ever. Well not ever-ever, but you know what I mean.

You know what else is bizarre? When feelings are somewhat reciprocated? Or at least acknowledged.

While I don't usually like romantic comedies because of their poor writing and bad directing, I actually enjoyed Hitch this weekend, especially this quote:

BEGIN EACH DAY AS IF IT WERE ON PURPOSE.

Seriously? Sometimes I'm so fucking stupid. Like, who acts like a dumb 13-year-old schoolgirl flirting with a guy with a girlfriend? It's almost masochistic (well, I actually stole that idea from a recent episode of SATC, to give credit where credit is due). Rob's theory is that you go for things you cannot have if you fear rejection -- as in, it's not like anything is going to happen in this situation, therefore there is no real risk involved and that's why I do it. Not exactly rocket science, but makes sense. Gross, I think I just had a Dr. Phil moment.

On a slightly different topic, a good way to find out how your friends feel about one of your potential crushes is to bring him up, suggesting you hook him up with one of your other single friends. That way, if they don't like him (and duh! of course they don't...) then you can find out without the embarassment of maybe, possibly, having a little crush on a weird dude. Which sounds kind of lame... "I won't like him if my friends think he's weird" but at the same time, if your friends think he's weird, that means something.

I firmly believe in the Rule of Threes, therefore I need this paragraph just to make this blog feel right. But, um, I don't really have anything else to say. I guess I'll go with this... One of the first blogs I ever read was back in 2001. She's a really good writer and I usually go back to that link every once in a while for old times sake. (That sounds really creepy, as I do not know this girl, do not have contact with her, therefore there is really no "old times sake" of which to speak.) Anyway, she has a page that's titled "THINGS I AM OVER!" and omg, that is so my mood right now.

This is a dumb segue sentence that sucks!

I present: Things I Am Over.

- The fact that there is a high school 0.1 miles from my house that costs more than a full year at University of Michigan and the kids who go to that school cut me and my Saturn off in their H3's and Lexus' (Lexi?) every f-in morning. I'm over it! Their parents are millionairres and run the automotive industry, but me and my Saturn will be JUST FINE. (And if I were a guy, I would proclaim "At least my penis is bigger than theirs." The idea came from my coworker Ian, btw.)
- I am totally over flirting with guys (read: a guy) who have girlfriends (read: a girlfriend). See above.
- This too: gaucho pants. So early spring 2005.
- I'm over being a walking contradiction. Err... I'm over caring that I'm a walking contradiction. I just accept it as who I am now.
- I'm waaaaay over the fact that I sweat hardcore at the gym. It's not unusual for me to walk out of there dripping wet, and I don't care if the people behind me or on another machine or something see or care.

Okay, that was kind of fun, I guess. I'm going to watch some John Cusack and wax poetic over my lovelife, or lack thereof.

It's funny, because I told some today, just today!, that it's not a good idea to drink and use the internet concurrently, as I have written many a drunken email to a certain someone whom I would rather not have written them to (hey! do you read my blog? if so?! how awkward is this right now??!!)

Anyway, so I warned her not to drink and email, and what do I do? Drink and blog. same thing. So anyway, today I saw two of my husbands. I am honestly not kidding you. One two separate occasions, YEARS apart, I saw these two men, and thought to myself "HOLY SHIT, I'M GOING TO MARRY HIM!!" but we'll see what happens there. It turns out I am 500% more awkward than I thought, and no one wants to marry an awkward girl. Can you even imagine the marriage kiss? The one where everyone is watching you give your husband the tongue? OMG I can't wait to get married.

Anyway, so tonight I was pregnant Britney, and let me tell you... if that was foreshadowing of any kind, I don't know if I'm going to have the 4 kids (I'm one of four...) I've planned on having all this time. (Side bar: I've said I've wanted 4 kids for a while, and a lot of people I talk to say they want "x" number of kids, and "x" usually correlates to the number of kids in their family. Is that the case with you? Think about it.) . So even sitting at the bar with a bean-bag pillow in my stomach was hard enough to maneuvar, I don't know if I could handle a real live embryo. I totally want to have a baby. Omg I am totally contradicting myself, I am totally schitzophrenic right now.

So, actually I have nothing embarassing to disclose, although I would totally love to humiliate myself right now, YOU KNOW!? Until next time...

You know you're back in Michigan when...

... the guy in front of you leans over to the window, watches as the baggage handlers unload the plane, and shouts out to his buddy sitting a few rows ahead:

"Hey, look! There's my gun!"

People pretty much harp on me for being a negative person, for being too hard on myself. But just when I think "Okay, maybe I'm not as awkward as I think?!" something happens that just proves me wrong! Kinda like how I was sort of denied by a guy who has a girlfriend who hit on me in the first place. Like, how does shit like that happen to me?? And why??? Anyway, nothing a little red wine won't take care of, right?

Omg my puppy is so precious.

A couple of things:

Whenever I drink, I sometimes am afraid I will either call you or IM you and totally pour my heart out and let you know how I feel. This scares me for a few reasons:
- I could totally mis-dial or mis-click and leave a horribly un-thought-out, yet confusedly heartfelt voicemail/IM on someone else's machine.
- The fact that I could only express my true feelings after a few drinks is a bad indicator of how I conduct my emotional business.
- The whole Rejection thing. Because that is invitable.

So instead, I repress the feelings and blog about it instead. I am a model of the Emotionally Stable Adult. I do hope you are taking notes.

Another thing: I realized that I have had this 'blog' for over 4 years now. Now I don't even want to get into the whole "holy shit, time is flying" talk, so instead, I will give you my first Retrospect.

October 2001
- stressed about school, I had just started my 2nd year of college and started taking my engineering classes, and they were harder than I expected.
- excited for study abroad; I had just signed up and been accepted into the program in Dublin, Ireland, and there was not one day that I did not think about how excited I was for the trip. It turned out to be the best summer of my life.
- boys. I wanted to date and such, what is new?
- An excerpt:

i've said it before and i'll say it again, i want to go on a date! i'm too chicken shit to make any first moves, i'm stupid like that. now i understand how guys feel... cuz they sort of are expected to make the first move, i bet they're always so freaking nervous! just thinking about telling a guy point blank that i'm interested in him... hahaha riiiiiiiight i could never do that, at least i can't imagine myself doing that... well not sober anyway. sounds like it's time for me to get drunk.

Uhh, did you read the first part of this post? Enough said.

October 2002
- I wrote about boys, again, and how I got asked out. I think this was the one time a guy properly asked me out in college, and the night of our date, my sister ended up in the hospital and I ended up driving home to be with my family and missed the date. We re-scheduled a few times but I never actually saw him again.
- I tried marijuana for the 2nd time and totally tripped out -- the first time I did not get high. To this day, I am certain it was laced with something, because I never felt that high any other time I have ever smoked.
- I had a pretty big crush on a guy I knew (in my head) was gay, but hoped (in my heart) he wasn't. Of course, he totally was, but I was over it very soon after.
- A few excerpts:

i think i may have just gotten asked out. i don't know, considering i'm asked out all the time (and by all the time, i mean never at all) i was all cool on the phone, even saying once "ok i'm being a complete tool right now" to him. and how true that is. I AM A TOOL. also, i have decided (without even going out with this guy) that i dont like to date! it's so uncomfortable! cuz really, you know nothing about the other person, so what does that even give you? one night hook-ups are also not my thing, which puts a damper on things when you realize that he just wants to get laid. anyway, i really do have to write a paper, that is not an excuse, so i gotta start on that. big right.

Mood changes are often accompanied by altered perceptions of time and space. Thinking processes become disrupted by fragmentary ideas and memories. Many users report increased appetite, heightened sensory awareness, and general feelings of pleasure."

ya think?

why do i have to have a mini on paul... always pick the ones that aren't interested in me

my room, among other things in my life right now, is in a state of chaos. when i first read the word "chaos" i said "chay-oh's" and my mom and friend erin thought i was so stupid. i laughed too.
i just ate a pack of donuts from the vending machine! i think this is the first time ever i have ever bought donuts, and they were from a vending machine! ewwww.
i really don't have time to be writing a blog right now, seeing as how i have homework due tomorrow (average time of completion = 5 hrs), a lab due tomorrow (last week's lab = 11 pgs), work from 5pm-11pm, and a hard-ass exam on friday (last exam's grade = 16/30... last exam's amount of studying prior to exam = 15+ hours). so are you picking up on the level of stress i am going through right now? hence the donuts.

October 2003
- I write the ubiquitous "I love fall" blog, which turned into my ubiquitous "I think about death"-toned thoughts.
- I whine about Indiana and their prediliction for Walmart, and lack of Cider Mills.
- I speak in code, and it was futile, as I don't know what I was talking about two years later, which defeats the purpose. I have no idea who Budda-Pat was.
- A few excerpts:

i love fall. the changing colors, the pumpkins and leaves, wool and boots and boa scarves, realizing i'm just repeating the blog i wrote 2 years ago... hmm change of direction.
as i drove down my street last night, the lone driver on the mile-long stretch of slim road, i turned the radio off and opened my windows all the way. the wind gushed and caused fresh air to circulate and swirl my hair around, and leaves fell on my car. i gasped inwardly at the beauty of fall, and at that moment realized that the beauty we all talk about, really, is the beauty of death.

franklin cider mill seems so far away today... :_(
walmart cider doesn't even come close to theirs.
i hate walmart to begin with.

I’ve decided that I want one (well, that had already been decided… re-affirmed is a better choice of word) all the while remembering that I want to wait. Second-hand Buddha Pat’s and my mom’s advice still rings in my ears loudly on that subject. Baby steps.

October 2004
- I had only 3 blogs in October 2004.
- One about a boy. Duh. Reading this makes my heart pang, literally.
- One about a silly moment with a friend, and reading this actually makes me miss college.
- One about my dad's 50th birthday party. Reading this makes me glad I recorded it for me to read in the future.
- Here they are:

As much as I want to, I can't forget the way you made me feel.
I can't forget the way you made me feel.
Not like, happy, or sad,
Just the fact that I did.

Look at him. He's the size of my right breast. I highly doubt he could kill anyone with a bayonet." -me, re: Harold from Harold and Maude, during "movies-and-a-forty" night.


I had a great weekend celebrating my dad's 50th birthday. He had about 50 of his friends (how appropriate) and family over and there was good food and good wine and laughter and drinking and talking and such. I hope to have such good fortune in my future; in fact, it's something I think about all the time. My parents will celebrate their 25th anniversary in a couple of weeks, and that, too, is something that haunts me in a good way. I should only hope to be so lucky.

October 2005
- Again, only 3 blogs this month, not including this one. All three are pointless and lame. Scroll below to read.
- My lack of direction and/or interesting topic, or even making a boring topic interesting, are very telling.
- I talk about men (see how I call them 'men' now? instead of boys?) although my tone is much more negative, which is funny because it's not like I've had all of these heartbreaks or disappointments that have given me such a cynical view. It's the exact opposite, the lack thereof, that has turned me into the spinster I seem to be. How fucking bogue.

Anyway, that's that. Things are actually good now. I am in a good state of mind, I don't hate myself, and that feels fucking fantastic. I veritably cannot complain.

Except, I can! And will!.... Now if only I can work on the 'getting laid' part...

A short list:

- Decisiveness
- Before Sunrise/Before Sunset DVD Combo
- Mom b-day present
- S, S, & S
- Quit being icy

So, I joined friendster.com when one of my friends emailed me, or, rather, Friendster.com emailed me when he provided them with my email address. So, over the course of the last year I have been signed up for the networking group, or what have you, I have received a few emails from strangers hoping to find love on the internet. Usually I just ignore the emails and pretend like I didn't even receive them. But sometimes you get really good ones, and you just have to share with the internet:

-From Vincent, 31, from Rochester Hills:
looking for someone who, and I quote, poor spelling/punctuation and all, "someone who enjoys long walks good coffey and has a good sense of humor and loves childern"
FIRST OF ALL: learn how to spell 'coffee' and also: don't tell women you are looking for a woman who loves children. Nothing screams STAY AWAY like "I hope you like the prospect of bearing my children, and did I tell you I want five? Two years apart?"

Also, your messages should NOT read: "so do you ever cook tai chi or do pad tai then drink chai tea? just kidding." Because you do not cook tai chi, your perform tai chi. You do not do pad thai, you eat pad thai. You are a dork, and should be banned from the keyboard.

-From Christian, 38, from Ferndale:
"Here is a picture of me, with ankle weights, useful in working out the lower abs, they were a graduation gift."
Ummm..... ??????????? I know that was a ridiculous use of punctuation, but I wanted to convey my confusion and I hope that adequately accomplished that. What a useless statement, and that surely will not pique my interest. Even if I had an iota of interest in internet people, that would not be the way to grab it. Rule number Infinity in internet-flirting: Do not send people pictures of you with your ankle weights on. It will most certainly not get you laid, despite how ripped your lower abs are.

And lastly:
-From some dude, I don't care where he was from, how old he is, or what his name is:
"You look really really young in your pictures, are yoU? lol... hit me up to chat"
You've got to be kidding me. He pretty much tells me he's looking for jailbait. I want to track his IP address and alert the authorities, but I'm not even really sure what an IP address is, nor who to contact in those situations. Still, I felt like I needed a shower after reading that, I felt that dirty just reading his message.

So, thank you, frienster, but NO THANK YOU. I'll just continue to not date and lie to my dental hygenist when she does the whole "So, tell me about your love life" spiel while she scrapes plaque off of my teeth. At least that gives me some time to think up a good story.

A few things, in short:

I was at the shoe store today (DSW, if you must know), and there was some creepy guy lurking around the 7.5/8 sale aisles. Every once in a while, he'd pass me, looking downward at my feet but feigning to look at the ground. Then he'd pretend to peruse the sale shoes like he was looking for something for a wife or mistress or daughter. I saw him no fewer than three times, and last saw him asking a woman in the aisle where the bathroom was. I can only dread to think about what he was going in there to do... no, I'm not a pervert for thinking that, for it's true: I was stalked by Foot-Fetish guy at the shoe store. Grosssss dude.

Secondly: I paid off my credit card(s) this week. No small feat, I promise. I graduated with close to 5-figure credit card debt. So I'm mighty excited to not have that looming over my head, and can sleep a little easier at night (no joke).

I love it when you're talking to someone, and you think you know what they're saying but don't want to flat out ask "So what you're really saying is..." but then you eventually realize that your intuition is right and then you can admit that you are guilty of the same crime, so to speak. It's really quite fun, the game of beating around the bush.

Up North this weekend Bitches! Don't cry for me, Detroit. I'll be back in the 'hood sooner than you can say BITCH WHERE YOU AT?! Keep it real, or die trying. OMG WHEN DID I THINK I COULD TALK LIKE THAT!?

First things first: I just read that Donald Trump's wife is pregnant. You do realize that this means DONALD TRUMP IS GETTING LAID AND I AM NOT.

Next: I also read somewhere, a long time ago, on a blog out there somewhere a quote that read "You don't have to work for an asshole." And while I will not write about work here on the internet, I will say this: I was repeating those words to myself for well over 15 minutes today, with such a mixture of anger and sadness that I was getting quite incensed in the car on my way home, so much so that I had to stop at the Cider Mill for some distraction.

Which brings me to my next point: THE CIDER MILL! THEEEEEEE CIDER MILL. The Cider Mill. The Cider Mill. The Cider Mill. I think you get my point here.

Also: I'm becoming increasingly aware that my general bad mood-slash-negativity is actually, imagine this!, apparent to other people and that it may be annoying. There's nothing I dread more in the world than being that girl. Well, except maybe childbirth. But seriously, gross, who wants to be the annoying, negative person in the group. On the other hand, I hate just grinning and bearing it (you know what I mean.....) Eh, who the fuck cares anyway. I'm so bored by what I just wrote.

On that note, I think I'm going to go bowling tonight. You know, hurl large, heavy objects around...

Now that my hissy fit is over (READ: I'm bi-polar), I can talk about other things, such as:

-How scary it is when my dog is asleep, with her eyes rolled back in her head, but her eyelids are open so all I see is the whites of her eyes plus the blood red of her eyelids, then she starts shaking and howling in her sleep. I feel like it's a preview to the movie The Exorcism of Emily Rose. It's really fucking freaky. I don't know if I should go grab myself a rosary or some vinegar or something that wards off evil spirits... at any rate, I'm scared to get up from my computer for the fear of awakening a demon who has taken over her body or something. Okay, enough about the dog...

-Change is good. I told someone that recently, and am going to try and make myself belive it's true for myself as well. Well, I know it's true, but I just need to execute now. Blah blah.

-The last episode of Six Feet Under? Make me cry like a baby every single time! At first, I thought it was just because I was PMSing or something, you know, being a woman and all. Then I thought I got that lump in my throat because I was getting sick, but nope, the floodgates that are my tearducts decided to give way and pour open. Honestly, I'm a little saddened it's over. Like, my life feels a little less great. Is that fucked up? Is it?

-A little eye contact can do wonders. Friday morning, after a night of drinking like I was in college or something (I actually went out twice for drinks, in one night. This, I swear, is a rarity.), I stopped at Starbucks to get my new drink, a Venti shaken passion tea with Valencia. Actually, I got two because I was so parched. Anyway, I was in a Debbie-kind-of-mood, and the kid behind the counter made eye contact with me and smiled. And I have to tell you? It kind of warmed my frigid heart. Isn't that a sweet story?

-Note to self, and to internet: Find out when Dairy Delux closes for the season. I'll be damned if I miss going there one last time this 'summer'.

-So, Tiger's game tomorrow. While I find baseball to be just about the last sport I would ever choose to watch, I am excited to get out to Detroit/Comerica Park. I've only been there once, if memory serves me right, and it's about damn time I get back there. Shout-out to Kare/Jame for the brill ide. (See how I'm in the habit now of not finishing spelling words? WTF?)

-Some people suck!!

Holy hell, I'm really fucking awkward. I totally lied about having sassy stories, as I only had 1 drink, did not act or try to act social one single bit, and was almost pouting. I am becoming a cautionary tale! This is not right!!

Hell, I am writing a post on a 'blog' at 12:30 on a Saturday night. At my parent's house. Who are not even home. Meaning I have the entire house to myself! To throw parties, or have one-night-stands, or go buck wild. Instead I berate myself and drink red wine while watching Sex and the City reruns while totally and utterly ignoring the blatant signs of being a total fucking loser.

The good news is, I'm not in love with you, I'm just in love with your type. While this is not groundbreaking news, it is somewhat comforting.

Kids, hold on to the seat of your pants... and refresh often! I expect to write some sassy blogs tonight while buzzed. I am even somewhat "dressed up" so I can hope to have at least one good story, including but not limited to being hit on by 40-year-old men. Ah, to be single and 23...

How have you been lately? Business as usual? I feel I could use more excitement these days, you know? I find myself bored at times, and I'm too young to be bored. Ever get that feeling? Like I should be doing awesome, crazy things. Maybe I watch too many movies.

Ah, such is life. Wise words from my main FW man MW. Other words to live by:

"You was a fine motherfucker, won't you back that ass up?"

In very related news, I need to get drunkenly silly and make-out.

In not so related news, YOUR MOM.

Josh has good (often drunk, I think?) mini-blogs that make me wish I didn't depend on my parent's ghetto PC that would die if I tried to download wBloggar. Cuz I sure as hell am too lazy to sign onto blogger.com and try to remember my user/password everytime I have a witty 15-second fleeting thought. THEME OF MY LIFE AS OF LATE: FLEETING THOUGHTS. Anyway, it certaily serves as a barometer of my psyche if nothing else but internet diarrhea for you to get annoyed with. And either way? I DON'T CARE.

(this was written in july and i had it on 'draft' mode, thought about canning it, but the last line it just too funny...)


People are just annoying the shit out of me. The girl in class who interrupts the teacher and goes "Excuse me, does it bother you that I'm using this?" and then nods down at her tiny Apple laptop thing (I'm not cool enough to know what they're actually called...) Dumbass. Why didn't you just stand up and say "Hey guys, look at my (tiny Apple laptop thing). I'm really proud of it and want you all to see it, so please look at it." Honestly I'd rather. Instead I just sit there and seeth and probably look like the Bride of Chucky.
Then there's the guy who flipped me off in the car. I've heard of people flipping other people off, but I didn't know it actually happened. Who fucking gives someone the middle finger? That's so Age Seven. And don't you know the laws of merging ramps? The person EXITING the highway onto the ramp slows down, the person leaving the ramp to get on the highway speeds up. Moron.
Then, oh then, there's work. Talk about seething...

Kids - I have some funny shit. Fresh from my middle-school (okay, and maybe a little into high school) "dream journal" ... I present you with:
My Dreams, circa 1996.

12-22 Lot's of dreams tonight:
I went on some kind of bus ride with Jason Priestly, Michael Jordan, some other famous guy, Jenny McCarthy, and Larry Kennedy*. Larry Kennedy stayed on the bus collecting bottle caps. The girls (including me there were 3) got off the bus which was parked at Bingham Farms and were dancing aroudn in our bathing suits. And the guys were walking around naked! It was wierd.
I was on a highway and all of a sudden this lady was stopped on the bipass (the bridge thing over the highway) and asked if she wanted to do this space experiment. She said yes and they put her in this small rocket thing that could only fit one person. Then they sent her off right there on the highway 28 miles up. It was like I could see her going all the way up into the sky. When she wasw all the way up, she circled a bigger spaceship and came down. She looked nausious.
This one guy (who is hot) from the German III class asked me out. The thing was the classes were all weird. Then I walked in wearing a dress that had straps and was short. Plus I was really skinny. That's probably why he asked me out.

*ed. note: Larry Kennedy is not famous. He was some kid from my elementary school, some kid I was not even friends with, and I have NO idea why he was in my dream.]

1-3
My dream was that there were really bad tornadoes and every-one was freaking out. The streets were all lined with people. The teachers (I think I was with my school) cut up bree cheese and told us to put it over our heads for protection. Then I really had to pee so I peed in the Nordloh's backyard. We were all sitting by these houses. I was looking at one and all of a sudden the family room blew up and two little boys lfew out. It was like they were dead but I called out to them to come over to where we were and sit w/us. Also Mom and I were walking and she saw a diamond store but when we went in it was like a hippie sotre and mom bought a diamond catalog.

7-8
A wonderful dream last night! Gavin Rossdale..... hottie! I was on a cruise where some bad guy was on it and told us to get off (sound like Speed 2?) but Gavin wasn't in that part. All I can remember w/ him is there were a bunch of girls going gaga over him and Melissa (C.) was there and she made some stupid remark. All the other girls made fools of themselves in front of him except me. He made some joke, which I laughed at, and he gave me an incredible smile!! [<---- it should be noted that this !! was made to look like a smiling face. OMG] I never wanted the dream to end!

9-6
-I dreamt that Prince William was in myh house but I was too chicken to talk to him!
-I also dreamt that I was on a campground of some sort and some guy was chasing us and killed one of my friends who was named Oreo. Then I pretended I was dead. Then mom and I had to leave the campground but we couldn't take any of our stuff because the killer could come back and notice it. We drove by a huge movie theater on the way out but I thought that he was in there so we didn't stop for help.
[This next one is the best!]
-Another dream I'd had was that our family was the subject of a horror film. The bad guy was Marilyn Manson! It was so scary! He was chasing us all around our house. I tried hiding in closets and stuff but I kept on having to change spots. Then at the end we walked into the house (the "chase" took place inside and outside) and we saw him lying there like he was dead. Dad said that he'd committed suicide because he was screwed up but I didn't believe him. Then mom, Alli, and I were walking over to Woodside and it was like I was watching the movie and could see that he had opened his eyes, as if he was pretending to be dead. Then we went back to the house and he was gone. Needless to say I woke up terrified.

9-29
About a week ago I had a dream that mom had a baby boy whom she named Davenport. Then she died. It was a tres-wierd dream. I hope it doesn't come true.

OKAY. Can we say. WHAT THE FUCK. I had such fucking weird dreams. What a creep I was, seriously! And probably still am. I found this journal when I was looking for something to jot down some stuff on, and I had it at work and started to read through it to see what was in it and I had to STIFLE the laughs cuz it was so ridiculous, the stuff I had written. First of all, who keeps "dream journals"?? Apparently, I did, between 1995 and 1996. Second of all, 14 year olds dreaming about Marilyn Manson chasing them around their house? Or celebrities smiling at them or boys hitting on them because of their short dress with straps and because they were skinny!? What a weirdo.

You'd think that since I haven't posted in a while, I must be doing Really Important Things, or Really Cool Things, or Really [insert adjective other than 'boring'] Things, but alas, I have been doing Really Boring Things.

A list, in short:

-work
-sleep
-poop
-work
-sleep
-poop

Although, sometimes it goes like this:

-work
-poop
-sleep
-poop
-work
-sleep.

See how I mix it up there? Yeah, variety is the spice of life, and if you have enough spice, there will be pooping.

Henyway. Hokay. So, for real... I can't tell you what I've done since May 25, or whenever that last post was. I saw a play staring a friend of a friend (and his bf). I developed a mini-crush on a guy I met through a friend of a friend, although that was a huge bust (as I come to find he has a girlfriend. How? It could have been the "I love my girlfriend" shirt he was wearing... very well could have been that). I also had dinner with a friend and her friends. Notice a trend? I've been socially loafing. I've been reading, learning, freckling; swimming, Woodside-ing, sleeping. Bitching, lying (around), breathing, moping, realizing, writing. You know, the usual.

I have stuff written that I need to post but I keep on forgetting to, and I will for another two weeks. It's kind of been a summer like that. For example: early April, I went to the library and checked out some "books on CD" because I was getting tired of the radio during my hour in the car every day. Well, I had them checked out for 3 week. The time was up, I had listened to them, and I was too damn lazy to take them back, so I renewed online. Another three weeks pass. I am in Birmingham (home of the library) several times, and do not return. Lazy. Lindsay. Then start the late fees. You know how libraries are really lame and charge you like 15 cents a day for late fees? And that makes you wonder why they charge them at all, cuz what are they going to do with the 90 cents you pay them for returning them 2 days late? Well, if you are late returning them for, say, OVER A MONTH, you will rack up a hefty fee. THAT'S why they charge late fees, for lazy motherfuckers like myself.

Bad story, I know. But I'm too lazy to go back and edit.

Sad things: family friends dying, miscarriages, wars.

Happy things: weddings, puppies, hot bodies, sweating and swaying in rhythm to the music. [Cue techno beat, and/or hot-bodies-dancin' type music]

To do list summer 2k5: hot bodies, Plans, homework (both kinds); convert to Scientology, make out with a closeted gat famous movie star, make millions of dollars; win an award, make a speech, be inspired. It's July.

I want a popsicle.

My new hobby is reading celebrity dirt on the internet. Except all of these pictures of Britney Spears' baby-bump? Look like me when I come out of Chili's after eating a huge meal.

While browsing through job descriptions online, I found the following desired qualification from one employer in particular: "Familiarity with DoD."

Excellent! I am very familiar with Dick o'Dows! [local Irish pub]
I know that on Thursdays, they have live music and I frequently run into my high school alumnis, on Sun-Tues are rather quiet, but they never have drink specials, even on the slow nights. Five dollars for a pint of beer! At least they don't serve crap...

Sigh. If only they were talking about that DoD.

So I sit down at the computer on a Saturday morning, open my web-browser, and check my email. I only have one this morning (I usually get, like, seven love letters a day!) As I click on the inbox and wait for my slow P3 machine with spy-ware and ad-ware and other junk which slow it down, I conjur up an idea of what this one says. "Lindsay, I cannot live without you, only say the word and I shall be healed." (Wait, this sounds oddly familiar...) "Lindsay, you are the love of my life, never leave me again..." or "Nice shoes, wanna screw?" (To which I think, HOW CAN HE SEE MY SHOES!!?? and run away from the computer with a real paranoia.)

Instead, after the 30 seconds it took to load the page are up, I realize it's only a message from Angel R. Golux letting me know I can "Slim Your Legs and Gut." Awesome!! But, at the same time, HOW CAN SHE SEE MY GUT???

The interesting part of hotel parties is always the part where it is the last 3 people of the party, you, your best friend, and this guy, and you're not sure if your friend wants you to leave so she can hook up with the guy, but you drove her and her stuff is in your car, and the guy is right there, so you try to make eyes at your best friends, eyes like "you want me to leave?" but you are still talking to the guy and your friend at the same time so you're like "so yeah that was funny when he dropped the entire box of alcohol" except you say it with a half-raised eye, the eye that you hope the guy can't see cuz he's on your other side, but since you were never that ambidextrous, on you it looks like you have an eyelash or something in your eye or you're about to sneeze instead of the inquisitive eyebrow "want me to leave you here?"

, originally uploaded by Lindsay Smith.

Ahh, Blogger... it's been a too long. So many things have happened since we last talked... like my mom getting a new front-load washing machine that is 10x quieter and we can now enjoy the television without getting up from the couch and shutting the door to the laundry room. Or! my dog got arthritis spontaneously, and now we will sit on the floor and massage her feet (oh my god, and i am so not joking either), or! tomorrow is payday, thus i am that much closer to being out of debt. And by "that much", I mean "not at all."

So, now that we're all caught up...

A few weeks ago, Roxanne and I met this guy at the bar. (Dick o'Dows, if you must know. Why you all up in the details, gina?) Of course, being the rauchy and crass girls we are, the conversation turned to sex, and the guy -- who was 40 and hottt and 'bought businesses and fixed them up and sold them for a profit -- asked us how our sex life had evolved. Him being 40 and all, he explained his sex life like wine; it got better with age. He sort of directed the question at me, and I was startled, to say the least. I squinted my eyes at him, not sure of what to make of that. I turned my head towards Roxanne, sure she was thinking of some witty rhetoric. Sure enough, she was just waiting for my cue.

"Well, I'd say it's like a good piece of cheese..." she started. He looked a little confused, and almost smug. "You know... sometimes you get a good piece, a sharp cheddar, and sometimes it's just not right." [Ed. note: like a piece of pepperjack, when you can't tell if it's mold or peppercorns and you eat it anyway and it was definately the former.

"Yeah!..." I piped in. "Sometimes it's like gorgonzola." I didn't really know what I was talking about, but man, to throw in "gorgonzola" in a conversation had to be worth something, no?

It was a hilarious conversation nonetheless, and I won't even bother with trying to re-create it, as it will totally lose its' effectiveness and I will end up looking like an immature twentysomething, and my policy has ALWAYS been not to let people know the true me. (ha-ha)

SO, anyway. Tonight, Kare joined us at Dick O'Dows, and of course Rox and I relived that conversation we had a couple of weeks ago.

"Karin, the other week we compared our sex lives with cheese," I told her. "Well, really, life in general... but you don't even like cheese." I had to think of how to tell her the story knowing her disdain for dairy.

"Okay, life, specifically 'life in your twenties' is like......... POP. You like pop right? Okay, so life is like pop. You know, sometimes, you're just dying for an ice cold Mountain Dew. Then the next day, you get into your hot hot car, and there is a Coke sitting there, boiling over. You're dying of thirst, and there is a boiling Coke. Drink the Coke? Die of thirst. [Hands pretending to level like a balance.] Or, you know, sometimes all they have is Diet Rite. Is it worth it? Have nothing or have Diet Rite. That's life in your twenties."

I'm sure it was all more profound in my head. Karin asked what life was like in your thirties. Being the omniscent soul I am, I told her it was analgous (haha, I just wrote "anal", I may be omniscent, but I am not mature!!) to... shit. What did I say? I can't remember right now. It'll come to me.

...
...
...

THAT'S RIGHT. I said it was like a meal from PF Changs. (What the FUCK? Am I obsessed with food-slash-drink or what????)
(Meaning, anything you order from the menu is bound to be good, but some better than the others. If you get something you're not crazy about, you still can pick out the good things about it and be grateful for the hot meal. That's the difference between 20-somethings and 30-somethings. 20-somethings are just so damn ungrateful and ungracious.)

So that's that.

What else? I've been writing at work. I'd post from work, like I did in the good old days of GE, but alas, not available at the present time. My dad asked me the other day what I was doing about getting another job. (Seeing as how I work in the auto-industry and live in metro Detroit... not a good combination.)

So I guess you could say I'm working on that. If you call "thinking about it" "working".

Other than that, I'M LAZY AS HELL. Even the one thing I do, Tai Chi, I do it sub-par and my teacher tell me I need to work on my footing. And it's the laziest form of martial arts there is! I might as well just WATCH the Tai Chi of DVD while sipping on my Chi Tea. (WHICH! I sooooo have started drinking, just to say I enjoy Tai Chi and Chi Tea simulataneously.)

Peace.

I love Flickr, and you will too. Read on, and if you want one, email me at work with a funny or dirty joke. lsmit294@ford.com

Hi Lindsay Smith!

You may have heard on the grapevine that we planned to
reward our dear Flickr members who bought a Pro Account in
the early days. Well, it's true! And since you're one of
those lovely people, here's a little something to say YOU
ROCK!

1. Double what you paid for!
Your original 1 year pro account has been doubled to
2 years, and your new expiry date is Dec 17, 2006.

2. More capacity!
Now you can upload 2 GB per month.

3. 2 free Pro Accounts to give away to your friends!
This won't be activated for a day or two, but when it
is, you'll see a note on your home page telling you
what to do.

Thank you so much for putting your money where your mouth
is and supporting us, even while we're in beta. Your
generosity and cold, hard cash helped us get where we are
today.

Kind regards,
The Flickreenies.

There are some words I habitually spell incorrectly. "Liscense" and "sentance", "personnel" and "repetetive". I actually typed in dictionary.com just now, when I meant to type blogger.com. That's how today went.

I hate hate hate it when you can tell people have been talking about you. I guess I don't hate it that they talk, just that I'm aware of it. Beer is usually a good remedy for that, I've found.

"He usually comes home singing."

I love love love an unexpected good time. After wholeheartedly yet with regret refuting my mom's assertation that I'm an optimist (has she met me since the age of eleven?) I realized that when I do have positive thoughts, I (gasp!) enjoy life! Let's process that for a minute.

The same issue of Newsweek that had the dead Pope on the cover had a blurb about "why your soul is in your sole." Then it showed celebrities and their different styles of footwear and then perfectly described them. Life is so easy. People are easy to read.

Everything Zen.

Why I love The Matchmaker, reason #2

matchmaker, originally uploaded by Lindsay Smith.

This pie chart.

(Number 1 being the leading Irish man, number 3 being this man.)

Not that I've ever been in a relationship, per se, but I believe him. I sure do.

"It's only..."

DSC00777, originally uploaded by Lindsay Smith.

We went to Olive Garden with the idea of unlimited soup and salad for $5.99.
Girls on a budget.
Until, we arrive.
"Glass of wine, please." (Nevermind it is only noon.)
"Another."
"Mimosa's all around."

Rox gets the bill, focuses long enough on it to proclaim, "It's only $35!"

We were confused... she had paid for all of our mimosas, her own wine, her own food, plus one of the appetizers. It didn't add up.

To our confused looks, she added...
"... on alcohol!"

Ame

DSC00772, originally uploaded by Lindsay Smith.

This is her talking with her hands...

"No, I will NOT turn around, I'm trying to DRIVE and get us to lunch in one PIECE."

She reminded me of G-Dub.

Ain't nothin' but a G(irlfriend) Thang

DSC00792, originally uploaded by Lindsay Smith.

Okay, I'll spare you any more pseudo-urban slangs.

Bathroom, v2.0

DSC00814, originally uploaded by Lindsay Smith.

Umm yeaaaah. I took this picture of myself, because apparantely THAT'S WHAT I DO. Except this is a special one. Special because I happen to be on the toilet.

Actually, this is not a first.

(And NO, I am not taking a dump. I'm trying to look inconspicuous.)

Bathroom, v1.0

DSC00842, originally uploaded by Lindsay Smith.

I guess I became a bona fide true friend this weekend, as I held back the hair of a puking pal. But maybe it was a little bit of a "one step forward, two steps back" because I proceeded to take a picture of her wiping her mouth and vowed to put it on my website.

Ettiquete

DSC00857, originally uploaded by Lindsay Smith.

Okay, I may have butchered the word "ettiquete" but I know this much is true:

-do not talk to women about your ex-wife. WE DO NOT WANT TO HEAR IT, EVEN IF WE ARE JUST BEING POLITE AND PRETENDING TO LISTEN TO YOU, WE DO NOT WANT TO TALK ABOUT YOUR EX-WIFE.

-do not approach strangers (women strangers) by telling them how refreshing it is to see "real looking women" out and about. "real looking women" with "curves"

-especially if you preface it with "i hope i don't offend you..."

Drunk-ish

DSC00879, originally uploaded by Lindsay Smith.

I loooove Kalamazoo!

But.... BOOOOOO to daylight savings time, and them kicking us out an hour early (Shakespears... you suck!) but WOOOO for a taxi only costing us $3 each, and WOOOO to me being not too drunk to type this but BOOOOO for me not drunk dialing anybody. BOOOOOOOOOOOO.

An tInneal Mallachtaí - The Curse Engine

English: May an infectious disease destroy your hard disk.
Irish: Go scriosa galar tógálach do dhiosca crua.
Phonetic: guh SHKRIH-suh GAH-luhr TOE-gah-luhkh duh YISS-kuh KROO-uh.

ha-ha-ha-a!
make your own Irish curse.

I'm blogging right now only because I said I would yesterday. There's about an hour and a half left of today, my 23rd birthday, and I'm ready for it to be over. I called in sick today, the first time I think I've ever called in sick. And I've been working since I was 15, so I think that's saying something. My 21st birthday was on a Saturday, so no calling in necessary. (And really, I would've had to call in the day after my 21st...) My 22nd was on a Monday - which was fine with me. I just had classes and what not. This year, I promised myself I'd call in sick and spend the day on my, doing whatever I wanted. I'd wake up around 8 (a luxury these days), do a light workout, have a light lunch, get a massage, go buy some books, treat myself to DSW... I literally had all of that planned.

Well, here's how it really went:
5:30am - call in "sick". Feel horrible about doing it, especially because I like my (local Pacer) manager and I didn't like lying to her. Plus, I've got a "good work ethic" and don't like lying in the first place. The second I hang up, my stomach really does start to hurt, probably because I'm psychosomatic or something... Go back to sleep.
8:00am - (local Pacer) manager calls to say I don't have to call (HQ Pacer) manager or (local Ford) manager (I had asked). My mom answered the phone, and when my manager had asked "Is Lindsay there?" my mom was like... "uhhhh I don't know?" Probably sounded sketchy as hell. I suck.
10:30am - Actually wake up. So looks like I won't be going to the 8:30 workout class. Call Lifetime, schedule a 12:45 massage. Okay!
11:00am - Go downstairs. Dad is home from work, sick. Sick with the infection I have now spread to 4 memebers of my family. Only the dog and the older brother who technically doesn't live here anymore haven't gotten it. Yet. Dad asks me to go pick up my brother from his friend's house (he's on spring break), then adds "Happy Birthday".
12:45pm - Massage. Maybe the highlight of my day? It was nice, but I didn't really like the girl who did it. She stood at the front of the spa (which, granted, is in my healthclub, so it's not exclusive or anything) gossiping and pseudo-fighting with one of her friends while I pre-paid for the massage. I was annoyed by her lack of professionalism, and annoyed by my annoyance. (This las sentance, this is my life.)
2:00pm - lunch at Potbellys. No, this was the highlight of my day. I ordered a sub and a milkshake and a soda. Total fatty. Browsed through real estate catalogs - the free ones at the front of the store - and got depressed.
3:00pm - Stopped at TJMaxx on my way home. WHY? That place sucks the life out of me. It's rattiness and smelliness and general disgustingness is just nasty. I spent over an hour of my twentyfour today in that useless store, walking out with only new kneehigh socks for work.
4:15pm - I don't really remember what I did between 4:15 and 6:45... somewhere in there I showered, because I was greasy from the massage, and I check my email (none) and browsed the blogs (mediocre updates). A little more of the suckiness.
6:45pm - My family discusses dinner. "What do you want me to make?" "I don't know." "Ask your dad." "Dad, what do you want for dinner?" "I don't know." "Well, should I go to Farmer Jacks?" "I don't know." I eventually phoned in an order to B-Dubs (new one opened in Ferndale). 18 wings (9 spicy garlic, 9 bbq, 2 sides of bleu cheese), 8 boneless (mild) and a grilled chicken salad. Drive there, took longer than I thought, parking was a bitch, I wanted to cry. It was fucking PACKED in there, I felt really ugly as I walked in and totally insecure walking through the huge crowd. I waited for over 10 minutes EVEN THOUGH I PHONED MY ORDER IN TWENTY MINUTES AGO.
7:45pm - Arrive home. What I actually received was 12 spicy garlic, 6 bbq, 8 boneless WITH NO SAUCE (Why Bother?), the salad, and NO BLEU CHEESE (No Really, Why Bother?) Icing on the cake, this was, to my bad mood. I can tell my mom is like "This is dinner?" and my mood is so sour and I've already cried the entire car ride home and my face is splotchy red and I'm trying to get my shit together. (Cry was not over food, I'm not that pathetic.)
10:00pm - Start to clean my room. ON MY BIRTHDAY. I'm such a tool. Take some mirror pictures of myself with my lame camera that is already broken (because what piece of technology do I own that is not doomed to break?) and feel totally disconnected to the monster I see in those pictures. I hate feeling this way.
10:25pm - Start this blog. I don't know if I actually intend to post it or not, it might be too much lame-ass, feeling-sorry-for-myself pathetic. My brother is on the computer, playing songs from Napolean Dynamite, talking to his BFF, and I catch a glimpse of what it's like to not feel like this. I snap out of it for a second. I remember that tomorrow's Wednesday (it feels like a Sunday to me because I was off work) so that offers some comfort.
11:35pm - I've now been chatting with some people on AOL (am I really 23 and still doing this??) and the ugliness of today has faded. Depression is tiring, I'm about to retire today in the log of days past. Tomorrow will be better, I promise.

Ha-ha! I just found a really funny away message I put up one night after coming home from the bar. It gave me a chuckle (chuckle!) and it reads:

note to self: when getting dressed to go see a friend's friend's band play at the bar, make sure they aren't hosting an event for the DETROIT SINGLES CLUB on the same night, because then you won't choose to wear a skirt and a blazer with just a bra, because then you will look like a desperate 20-something when in fact you JUST WANTED TO GO SEE THE BAND AND HAVE A COCKTAIL not look for cock-slash-tail (dot dot dot)

anyway, I've been a total slacker on my blog, and the first quarter is almost over, so i better go to my quarterly update! (nerdery)

I'm playing hookey from work tomorrow, so expect a post, a long and rambling post. Maybe with pictures.

google, originally uploaded by Lindsay Smith.

I Love Google.

Text Messages I Can't Bear to Erase:

"Just wait til you pee, it will be orgasmic."

"You have no idea how much my ass hates me right now."

"Drink wine, laugh often, live long."

"I have this text message saved in my phone do you remeber saying it lol?(the first part is me talking) Oh my god you are so funny "I bet he wants to put it in my butt" "

"Let's start chanting 'we want Jesse'"

"Watch out my outfits ridiculous"

"I caught you a delicious bass"

"PS, this is a text message from the toilet"

Ahhh, to be drunk and with a phone...

Musings from the waiting room at the car service station:

-Must gather together a small bag of goodies and keep with me at all times, in case anyone from a news station or similar ever interviews me for the evening news. No, I was not interviewed for the evening news, nor do I watch said television program, but after watching the evening news (albeit on Mute) in the service waiting room, and seeing that woman in a horrible ponytail and chapped lips with no mascara on, I was struck with that possibility of that one day happening to me. High maintenance, I have never been. A prima-donna? Nope. But good lord, if I am ever on TV (Those Harsh Lights!) without so much as a trace of Chapstick (the black kind) or mascara (brown, but I'm not brand loyal), you can officially remove me from your phone book, Buddy-List, or "Girl I Wanna Screw" list. ;)

-If I ever were to be a news reporter, and tried to do an undercover-slash-hidden-camera style job wherein I leave a Fiver in my car in plain sight and see if the service guys try to steal it, I should not and will not conduct this story at Saturn of Southfield. Not that they are necessarily honest people (or otherwise), but the Manager will alert you of the money (In Plain Sight!) and instruct the removal of currency before you leave your keys. Foiled!

-I would call the hypothetical story "You think you know... but you have no idea. Diary of a Fiver." And then I would try and see if it is possible to affix a GPS to the bill and track the usage of the illicit goods, maybe get a miniscule little camera that shakily, and with a green tint to the picture, shows the service guy taking the bill, and you see a shot up his nose and then it goes black as he pockets it.

-Note to self: Check with MTV for copyrights on by-lines.
-Note to self #2: Get a life.

Musings from the waiting room at the car service station:

-Must gather together a small bag of goodies and keep with me at all times, in case anyone from a news station or similar ever interviews me for the evening news. No, I was not interviewed for the evening news, nor do I watch said television program, but after watching the evening news (albeit on Mute) in the service waiting room, and seeing that woman in a horrible ponytail and chapped lips with no mascara on, I was struck with that possibility of that one day happening to me. High maintenance, I have never been. A prima-donna? Nope. But good lord, if I am ever on TV (Those Harsh Lights!) without so much as a trace of Chapstick (the black kind) or mascara (brown, I'm not brand loyal), you can officially remove me from your phone book, Buddy-List, or "Girl I Wanna Screw" list. ;)

-If I ever were to be a news reporter, and tried to do an undercover-slash-hidden-camera style job wherein I leave a Fiver in my car in plain sight and see if the service guys try to steal it, I should not and will not conduct this story at Saturn of Southfield. Not that they are necessarily honest people (or otherwise), but the Manager will alert you of the money (In Plain Sight!) and instruct the removal of currency before you leave your keys. Foiled!

-I would call the hypothetical story "You think you know... but you have no idea. Diary of a Fiver." And then I would try and see if it is possible to affix a GPS to the bill and track the usage of the illicit goods, maybe get a miniscule little camera that shakily, and with a green tint to the picture, shows the service guy taking the bill, and you see a shot up his nose and then it goes black as he pockets it.

-Note to self: Check with MTV for copyrights.
-Note to self #2: Get a life.

Jake Gyllenhaal - you're hot, and almost as hot as your sister.
Johnny - the teeth? What the hay?
Drew B. - can we be best girlfriends? meet for coffee with Scarlett and send each other IMs on our Sidekicks?
P-Diddy - You are a mighty hot specimen. I forgive you for the Led Zeppelin song you destroyed in the late 90s.
Kathy Griffin - I can't watch you on a full bladder. My mom would kill me for ruining her couch.
Oprah - DAMN, Gina.
Chris (Noth, aka Mr. Big) - Where were you!
Laura Linney/Kate Winslet/Gwenyth Paltrow - Can I just be you for a day?
Carlos Santana - Way to sport the Che Guevara t-shirt. That kind of reminds me of guys sitting at coffee shops with their laptops in college towns.
Leonard DiCaprio - Nice skin. You should be the next Proactiv spokesman, seeing as how Jessica Simpson was recently exposed as a coke addict after Paris Hilton's text messages from Lindsay Lohan became public recently. (I'm a shameless Hollywood gossip!)
Orlando Bloom - I applaud your decision to use spray-tan as an alternatvie to the dangerous and skin-cell-damaging tanning beds.
Clive Owen - Where the hell have you been my whole life?

I feel only slightly bad saying this, but WHAT THE FUCK! Why do I ALWAYS pick the machine at the gym (like how I throw that in there? like I work out allllllll the time, riiight) where the smelly farty guy is in front of me? So every time he farts :::queue, hot guy walking by::: it seems like I could be the guilty party. I try to make pleading eyes but I think that only incrimiates me more. Don't get me wrong, everyone farts, this I know. I fart. But I don't fart at the gym, especially when they're deadly.

Which kind of but not really reminds me of 10th grade chemistry class and learning about molecules and my teacher Mrs. Zande (who, coincidentally, would light a match randomly during class, and answer to our puzzled looks, "I just farted, that's all.") told us that when someone puts lotion on and you can smell it across the room, that the molecules are actually like floating around the room and you are ingesting them into your system. That's how smelling works. Or something equally as scientific-sounding.

Which then led the class loudmouth and not-afraid-to-be-crude-in-a-Catholic-high-school girl to blurt out "So when you go into the bathroom right after someone's taken a shit, you're actually like eating it?"

We all wanted to die right then and there. I still do. Shudder.

Which then reminds me of another high school memory, in which I signed up for Women in Lit, with reserve. Marian was already "feminist" enough for me, the last thing I wanted was to have to read Charlotte Bronte or Emily Dickens or OH MY GOD CAN YOU TELL I HAVE NO IDEA WHO I'M TALKING ABOUT. IS THERE EVEN AN EMILY DICKENS. So anyway, we ended up with this really fucking cool teacher who was only there for 1 semester, sort of in a temporary job to help the school out. The Grammys had been on the night before, and it was the year Jennifer Lopez wore that green dress that tied down near her girlie bits.

My teacher, who told us to call her Patty, was floored. She was just raving on and on about what must have been going through her head when she wore that and knew that there were girls like us watching, who, no, we didn't have J-Lo posters and weren't the "young impressionable 13 year old crowd" that all the FCC and whoever worries about with Britney and Christina and JLo being the ho's that they are. No, we were the kind that were 17, 18, just growing into our sexuality and realizing the more subtle societal pressures of dressing one way or doing something for a man or just being someone you're not. ANYWAY, point of my story, she all of a sudden just blurted out, "It's like she put that dress on and just wanted to say 'FUCK ME!'" and we all just about died.

The looks on our faces... yeah we were in high school, and said "fuck" on a regular basis, but in the confines of that parochial school, we were pretty prude. It was such an awesome moment, an adult talking to us like the adults we were about to become. She was a cool teacher, I wonder if she still swears in front of teenagers and ponders what pop stars think when they wear things during award ceremonies.

Well now, I've done and made myself look about 10 IQ points stupider with this one, I'll admit. My parents are in Florida and called me at work from the beach today, saying it was eighty. Jerks. It's nice to be home alone, but it does get a little boring. The dog is like killing me with her loneliness, she walks around the house practically sobbing that her family left her. I'm not even joking.

Okay, I leave you now (I promise!) with a joke, I heard on 89x. I figure, I'm already crude as hell with this one, just take it full circle and deliver.

"What's the difference between a pizza and Courtney Love?"


"Guys want to eat a pizza."

Diary, Part I

I've been reading through old journals lately, you know the kind where you write with a pencil on lined paper and maybe when you were five it had a little lock on it and you kept the key in your sock drawer?

Well anyway, some of them are so fucking hilarious. Like this one, which I'll keep undated so you don't know just how old I actually was when I wrote it:

I have such mixed emotions. I'm crying because I'm embarassed. I rented an "R" movie at Blockbuster & Dad came in and told them I couldn't see R movies. I'm feeling good because I did the Aid to Aids walk today. I'm scared because I go to high school in less than 2 months. I'm sad I only have 3 days of school left. I'm crying because Melissa ran away to Gary, Indiana and Aunt Kathy sent her to a forest military survival camp in Utah. I'm craying cuz I'm heavy and weigh 122 lbs. I hate my family. I love my friends. I hate put-putting.

Shit, that shit is funny. The military survival camp in Utah? Side-splitting. Obsessed with my weight at age 13? Fucking hilrious. The last line? What the hell??
(Yeah, so maybe you did find out that I was in 8th grade when I wrote that one. GOSH!)

Here's another:

omg i'm at beaners and there are 2 girls next to me. one is telling the other she is concerned that she is drinking and hopes that she will walk the path of christ and will be found again soon. I want to take her by the shoulders and shake her. maybe a brisk slap or two on the cheek too. she told her "i've been praying for you and i hope that you realize how much God loves you" yadda yadda. I feel bad for the other girl. - she's just sitting there mumbling and i can tell she likes going out and drinking CUZ IT'S FUN but at the same time I want her to stand up for herself and say "hey! I can love jesus and love tequila too!" These crazy crusaders. All that comes to mind is crazy Annie from study abroad, who read the Bible and didn't drink, and was almost engaged, but then attempted to give Greg a blowjob and made out with him. Whatever! So St. paddy's day i went to the post w/rox and Melisa met us there. I met this guy David, gave him my number.

That's the end of that "entry." I kid you not. I go from talking about this hilarious situation happening next to me to crazy Annie who was into the oral and also (I didn't write this part in my "diary" but it's true and I'm still not over it) stole my shirt and outed my best friend on the trip. Then randomly mention I gave a guy my number? Was I trying to impress my future self? That I gave someone my number? i shake my head at the lindsay of two-years-ago.

Okay, I'm going to rummage to find one more. Maybe one that doesn't make me look like a fucking moron. Um, still looking.

My head has been moving at a crazy pace recently... I can't stop thinking about him. I think it started when I saw him a couple times, then saw him like 3 times after that. One of the times I talked to him and he told me he was likely getting engaged soon - and I felt a twinge in my chest - jealousy/ heartbreak maybe both - and I congratulated him. I wonder if it sounded as fake to him as it did to me, or if he could see my heart beating through my shirt cuz let me tell you, it was dying inside of me. I wonder if he even thought of what I'd think when I heard that.

Let's try this one:

okay it's now 2pm... lunch sucked. of course, noon rolls around and i'm off to lunch by myself... sweet. About 1/2 of my time was spent driving around Fort Wayne... let me just say that one-way streets can kiss my ass. I went downstairs to see if Gene [the bossman] needed any help, but he wasn't there. Joe, a guy who did the 6-sigma co-op before, signed me on to his name so now at least I can do a little bit of work. Stress little bit. I've counted the days I have to work... 90 total, but w/2 days off. 88 total. 1 down so far.

Um, yeah. I think that's definately enough for now. Now you all know what I did on my first day of work at GE... counted down the remaining days. I'm surprised I didn't bust out the calculator and give a minute-by-minute countdown. I wouldn't have put it past me.

Now you also know what kind of nerd 8th grader I was... crying because her dad marched back into Blockbuster and made me feel stupid for trying to rent a rated R movie (it was Basketball Diaries. I never remember shit like that!!)

And my first sort of heartbreak (is it heartbreak if you don't actually give your heart away?), and just one of my many exciting Beaner's trips. There really isn't good stuff in these old journals i've found... really only sentances here, snippets there. I plan on ceremoniously burning them, I think. There's a lot of negativity that I didn't even know I had back then and I just don't need that right now.

But, for the sake of my 3 blog readers I thought I'd weed out a couple of what I considered funny ones. Be a dear, tell your mom you love her.

So Cool

DSC00418, originally uploaded by Lindsay Smith.

Me and my new Carmelo's.

TOXIC.

There's this spot on my left hip where, when I scratch it, I can feel the scratch on my neck.

Random thoughts:

- Lucid dreaming is the way to go.
- I kind of want to go back to school to become a teacher, or a photographer, or something equally less business-like.
- On occasion, it's good for the soul to buy yourself costume jewelry in hopes that you will one day wear it.
- I've mentioned this before, but whenever I go to Karin's and catch up on my Cosmo reading, I'm always enlightened and astonished by some of the things I read. This weekend did not disprove my hypothesis. (Yes, that was a double negative, because I am not capable of saying anything positive at the time being.)
- When ordering a Stoli at the bar and they serve you Smirnoff without your permission, you are then entitled, no, OBLIGATED, to not tip. Bitches.
- It's okay to get inspired by pop music.
- I told a friend I wanted to go see her counselor, but only if I could call her my therapist, cuz that sounds so much cooler.
- I have officially lost 10 cool points for that last statement.
- You should officially not talk to me because I said "cool points."
- Last week was the longest week of my life.
- I NEED to go skiing up north in the near future, any takers?
- I used to adopt the belief that those who kept their physical space really neat did it because their head was in chaos, and on the flip side, that those who were messy in their space had it all together up in their head. Of course, it was convenient to belive that because I am a SLOB, but now I'm not so sure.
- I am flattered, really, that my friends ask me for dating advice. But sometimes, I feel guilty that I don't add a disclaimer.
- My hands and feet are freezing right now, and it's making me a little sad.
- I love love LOVE James Spader and William Shatner on Boston Legal. I just realized that William Shatner has "Shat" in his last name. Shat. Hehehe.
- Nothing is more creepy than to read "hehehe." It makes me feel like a perv saying it.
- But how cool is it to have SHAT in your name?
- I don't get personal email anymore, and that kinda sucks. But then again, I don't send it much anymore either. I guess I don't know what I'm expecting when I compulsively check my mail like twenty times a day. An invitation to pick up and go somewhere or do something crazy and totally not-Lindsay-like?
- I'm gonna try really hard to keep the berating (of myself) to myself this next week. I shall call it my New Week's Resolution, as setting a goal for one week is much more realistic for me than anything long term.
- It's been way too long since I've consumed Coffee ice cream. Never before has Haagen Daas crafted such a perfect dessert.
- Past my bedtime. Passed my bedtime? I never said I was an English major. (I actually got my diploma today. It's all official and shit.)
- Here's to hoping this pit-in-my-stomach feeling goes away soon.
- Drinks, anyone?

You know you're old when...

... you read the phrase "rock out with your cock out" for the first time ever, in amazement, like this: (wide eyes) "rock out.......? with your? (lower your voice) cock out??"

more to come, i promise.