Nature: 1, Fevah: 0

This is one of those times of year where you think you can get away with being totally graceful on ice and snow.

But you would be so wrong in thinking such a thing.

I couldn't be more painfully aware of how clutzy and ungraceful I am at this very moment. As I sit here at my office desk, wishing this day would be over, (so I could get my hair done by one of my favorite people on earth, Trixie, and so I can get closer to the hour that I pick up Crazy Train from the airport) I am reminded at how retarded I am when it comes to winter weather.

Melody and I had just finished a wonderful dinner at Panera (if I could inject an IV of their broccoli cheddar soup into me, I would) and we had to stop off at my dad's house to switch over my laundry before we went to the Loop for some xmas shopping. Yes, I may hate xmas, but I can still fucking shop for it.

And as I got out of the car, listening to Melody talk about her finals the next day and the vast superiority that penguins have over whales, I failed to realize the giant patch of black ice directly underneath me. And as I fell, I could only imagine that this was the day I was expecting. 2 months of no derby and no physical strain, and I'm about to fuck that all up with one stupid ass fall. I landed directly onto my right knee (upon which I started cursing as if there were no tomorrow) as well as planted my right hand into a snowbank. And after the initial pain of the knee-smashing subsided, I realized that it was almost worst to have a mitten full of snow.

Melody then bravely picked me up off the ground and carried me into the house. But as we were walking up the stairs to the porch, we both realized that even though the driveway was filled with black ice, and the porch steps still had snow covering them...the BBQ grill was immaculate. Can you imagine that? In WHAT world would a person think "Hmm...well fuck the walkways, as long as I have my grill, that should be good enough."

The answer is: My Father. The man who would watch his own daughter slip and fall into PERIL, but make a cheeseburger with ease. I mean, god love the man, but sometimes I wonder. I now have my knee bandaged and ready for the world, but it's a constant reminder that I suck at nature.

I can only wait to see what this new year brings me. Oh goody.

Shame.

I've come to realize the most awkward encounter there is on this Earth.

It's not meeting your possible in-laws for the first time. It's not meeting your husband's mistress. It's not with your boss after you've done something horribly wrong. It's not with your friend after you've been in a huge fight. It's not with a parent after you've messed up something big. It's not even with a Coach or Captain when you fuck up on the track.

The most awkward, almost uncomfortable encounter there is?

The moments spent as you are trying to get something out of the vending machine, while the vending machine guy is there to refill them.

Yes, you heard me right. To me, there is nothing more uncomfortable than standing at the vending machine, trying to decide what snack (or snackS) you want, as the man who is waiting to refill said machine is standing right there next to you.

Watching you. Judging you.

It's a feeling that you can't explain or even really understand. You feel completely guilty for taking what seems rightfully his. Should you show off and get a healthy granola bar? Or should you just stop and say "Who am I kidding?" and grab a candy bar loaded with chocolate and peanuts and goodness of all kinds. Then what happens if you wanted a drink? Do you go for the double purchase? Or do you try to save face and come back when you think he has finished refilling the machines? These are life's questions, my friends.

Unfortunately, I don't have any answers. It's one of those things where you pray to God you got it right and won't regret it later on down the road. It's a moment that will make you stronger than you could have ever imagined. And as you press the "B5" buttons, you can rejoice in the fact that even if it was the wrong choice, it was YOUR choice. And that, is a Christmas miracle in itself.

Target can be fun sometimes...

Why is it that people who work in retail stores automatically hate me?

I understand it's a busy holiday season. But it's not like I'm that much more of a bitch than most people. Sure, I can BE a bitch if pushed to it -- but it's not like I go walking into a store looking for an argument. I always say "Hi, how are you?" when I get to the register and politely turn down whatever express card they want me to take part in. So why is it that I get shit on by these people who are usually uglier and older than me? I should be doing the shitting, my friends.

Take for example, the lady at the Target Greatland that Tootsie and I happened to visit this past Saturday. After I put my card into that machine that sucked it in, I realized that the screen wasn't changing. I said something to the 60ish woman at the register, to which she IMMEDIATELY replied with "What did you do?!". Now, granted...I am a very unlucky/clutzy person. If you have a drink with no top, I will spill it. If there is debris on the ground, I will trip over it. If there is a machine that will eat my debit card, so be it. But, I calmly said back "I didn't do anything, I just put the card in."

After about 3 minutes of this woman beating the machine to try to get my card out and repeating "What did you do?! What did you do?!" (to where I am getting angrier and angrier with my repeated phrase of "I just put the card in, I just put the card in."), Tootsie and I started to smell smoke. And it seemed, that it was coming from that same machine...my card still within it's clutches. At that point, I looked at Tootsie and said "If my card is melting right now, I am going to be FUCKING pissed." I then understood that there was nothing "nice" left between me and this woman, and it would be an all-out war if she uttered the phrase "What did you do?!" one more time.

Now there were 3 clerks, a security man and about 3 or 4 disgruntled customers all surrounding the machine with my card stuck in it. They were talking about the horrendous smell it was making, and should they call someone, are people ok. Blah blah blah, cut to me getting more and more frustrated with the fact that this old bat is still doing nothing useful to return the card to it's rightful owner -- ME. I knew, in all my frustration, that this was still a ridiculously funny moment, so I couldn't help but join in when Tootsie started laughing.

FINALLY, a kid walked over and took apart the machine in about a minute flat. But as he was opening the machine, the woman continued to be a douche bag, but changed up her phrase just a smidge to "She did something to it." I finally lost my nerve and looked right at her and screamed:

"I DIDN'T FUCKING DO ANYTHING, I JUST PUT THE CARD IN THE MACHINE AND YOU CAN STOP FUCKING BLAMING ME FOR YOUR FUCKED UP MACHINES, THANKS."

The woman and the kid both jumped and looked at me like I was going to pull out a knife and slit their throats. I grabbed my receipt and my non-melted card (thank jesus) from the woman and as if the interaction couldn't get any more rediculous, she had the audacity to say "Have a nice day" to me. As this was coming out of her mouth, I cut her off to scream at her "MERRY CHRISTMAS" turned around and said (in what I thought was quiet, but later I found it was not so quiet) "Fucking bitch."

Thus ends one of my MANY examples of why I hate shopping. I try to be nice, I try to be courteous -- and this is what I get. Bullshit. So if anyone has any interest in seeing a scene, come shopping with me -- it'll be a hoot.

Bah Humbug.

Ok.

So clearly, I have been slacking in the area of bloggyness. But that doesn't mean that I've disappeared -- hells no. I've just been busy jeez. But fear not! I'm back and filled with plenty-o-rage to blog about. And it's my favorite time of year when it comes to rage: Christmas.

Since WHEN is it ok to play non-stop sappy fucking movies on EVERY channel?! I'm so sick of cryfests over retarded movies (especially those ABC Family Originals...you know what I'm talking about).

I'm tired of people who put antlers on the roof of their car, or wreaths that light up on the grill of their SUV and think it's ok. Let me tell you something -- it's not ok. No. Not by a long shot. Do you really think its worth it to do that shit? That perhaps Santa or Jesus might favor you over others because you're so filled with Christmas spirit that you have to decorate your fucking vehicle to prove it? Gimme a break.

I also don't get the whole reasoning behind playing 24 hours of Christmas music on half of the radio stations here in Massachusetts -- which started in EARLY NOVEMBER. Is this really necessary? I now have to give up some of my cruisin' music to bullshit Dean Martin singing "Here Comes Santa Claus"? I don't believe it. This whole world has gone insane.

The only saving grace about the holidays is the fact that I now can drown my sorrows, pain and aggravation in bottles of Chardonnay with the rest of my dysfunctional family. Whoopee. I mean, the fact that I have to spend time with a family that hates me is a little bit of a downer -- but I mean, with the right consumption of liquor, any family gathering feels ok.

"Oh....you got another tattoo..." turns into "HEY! Awesome tattoo! I wish I could pull this stick out of my ass and get one as well!"

"Oh, you're not going back to school? I mean, my Alina got a perfect SAT score and is now at MIT with a 3.9 GPA." turns into "It is so great you are doing what you want to do as a PERFECTLY CAPABLE ADULT."

"Roller Derby? That seems....interesting." turns into "I wish I could just come out of the closet already and live my life MY way."

Don't get me wrong, sometimes I can have a lot of fun at these functions (it's so easy to fuck with a hardcore Irish Catholic family sometimes). But overall, I wish that my holidays could be spent in the comforts of my apartment, watching Ugly Betty and eating leftovers. There's nothing magical about Christmas for me and I doubt that I can ever enjoy it as much as some of my friends/family do. It's just how I was built -- and Bah fucking Humbug to those of you who are out to change my ways.

Merry effin' Christmas.

Sonofabitch.

Just when I started getting used to a life sans appendix, I read this motherfucker:

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/21153898/

"Appendix may be useful afterall! Scientists may have found appendix’s purpose!"

ARE YOU KIDDING ME!? My incisions hurt just THINKING about the fact that my seemingly useless organ now has a fucking purpose.

Who do you think you are Associated Press?! How DARE you make a mockery of my 3 day-stay at the Jesus-Freak St. Elizabeth's Hospital (because it was closest to my apt -- it was either death or live with crazy Catholics for 3 days...some say it's the same choice now that I think about it....) They had excellent ice chips!

Well good luck to the rest of you that have an appendix -- hope that that it doesn't want to depart from your body because apparently, it serves some kind of purpose now. Fuckers.

You're Kidding Me.

It's one of those work days where you know that nothing is really going to get done. I mean, every once and a while you stop gchatting and pick up some papers and look like you're doing work -- but really, you're thinking about the weekend and where your ruffle butt panties are and 'crap! is my uniform balled up on the floor all wrinkly? Or is it hung up?'

That being said, I'm at work emailing back and forth with what seems like the dumbest woman in creation. Here is a bit of the exchanges.

Her: "I need a setup for a conference room."

Me: "Ok, what room do you have and what setup do you need, what date/time, and how many people?"

Her: "Tables everywhere. 9/27 5-9pm."

Me: "Ok, so classroom set up? How many people are attending?"

Her: "Do you have table cloths? Do you have round tables?"

Me: "No, you would need to order through the BWH Catering for round tables with table cloths. Let me know if you would rather order these tables, if not, let me know how many people are atteding your meeting so I can have the guys set up enough chairs."

Now, it's not going to be all that surprising when you learn the actual name of this woman.

Princess Welcome.

Oh yes, you heard me right. Some man and woman honestly thought that this would be a suitable name for a child. And not only is the name funny in itself, what's MORE funny, is that whenever I receive and email from this person, it comes in labeled "Welcome, Princess" which makes me feel like I'm being greeted for a special occasion. But no. I'm just opening up a new email enraging me with some stupid ass question.

So this prompted me to google other stupid names and I found this article:

This from The Associated Press:

Sports fan names newborn son ESPN

BILOXI, Miss. - Leann Real promised her husband, an avid sports fan, that if they ever had a son he'd get to pick the name. ESPN Montana Real was born this week at Biloxi Regional Medical Center. Rusty Real, of D'Iberville, chose ESPN (pronounced Espen) after the sports network and Montana after football legend Joe Montana.

Seriously? Seriously. This shit needs to end.

The Biggest Loser.

I believe that I am the biggest loser for watching this show and thanking God (that I don't believe in) that I don't weigh that much --- yet.

Don't get me wrong, I love the show and what it stands for. And I fully repsect anyone who is willing to be on national television wearing a sports bra and spandex capris. There are definitely parts of the show that make me feel like more of a fat kid -- oh, like how the trainers are 80 lbs a piece soaking wet. Oh, and how they show the amount and different kinds of food each contestant eats in any given week and I

But my favorite part of this show is what I do to justify myself. What I do to justify me eating that bowl of Corn Pops. I watch these people literally bust their asses in a gym EVERYDAY for, what I can only assume 4-6 hours a day, and I think: Well, if these people can work out that much for that many hours a day...the least I can do is work out during the commercial break. Yes, that's right. According to my skewed view on life, me doing push-ups and crunches for a 5-6 minute commercial break every 15 minutes is equal to these contestants working out for, lets say, 25 hours a week.

These people lose up to 30 pounds in 1 week -- I lose almost nothing and reward myself with a popsicle.

Totally the same.

Crocs

I hate them.

I hate them on children.

I hate them on adults.

I hate them on EVERYONE.

Seriously, fuck you crocs. You're not good for anything.

Here's a picture of a BRIDE wearing crocs.

NOT OK.

This is just sad.

STOP IT.

YOU'RE A GROWN ASS MAN.

Ummm....

NO NO NO NO NO.

Cruelty to animals...

Make it stop.

As you can see, I could go on forever in my hatred towards this ridiculous shoes. If you own a pair....don't bother trying to be my friend

Just please. For my sanity, don't buy these ugly piece of shit. Ever.

A Night at Hampton Beach.

Truly magical.

I'll never quite understand the inner workings of Hampton Beach. Sure, there was a time where I enjoyed going up there and driving around in circles for hours hoping to be one of the coolest kids on the block. But now, all I can see is the hundreds of teeny boppers wearing shorts that are way too short, shirts that are way too tight and supremely inappropriate shoes (INCLUDING, Crocs. I fucking hate those pieces of shit shoes). I can't imagine ever looking like that.

As I was there Saturday night with my mother, her friend and her coworker I found myself in a plethora of meatheadedness. I felt like every time I turned around, there was some guy with spiked hair in too-tight jeans and a polo (popped up collar) shirt looking at me. I'm not sure if it's because they thought I was attractive or simply because I just looked out of place -- I'm willing to bet the latter. But NOTHING was as ridiculous as the guy I happened to sit next to at the Lewis Black show. It was this 20s something guy that looked as if he was almost a full-blown sword kid. At first, he made just random small talk which I happily returned -- because you have to sit so damn close to people, that I don't like pissing off my neighbors. And after a few drinks I didn't mind his rambling so much...but there was 1 comment that just literally made me laugh outloud.

"Are you like, a Bettie Page look-a-like?"

What gave it away? My long black hair? My red lipstick I was wearing? The whip I happened to have in my purse? Wait...no, that didn't happen. In a way, I am obviously flattered. But it just makes me laugh that this guy just randomly said that. Even my mom was like "Ummm. What?" And don't get me wrong, I'm glad I have a better look to me now as opposed to middle/high school/post high school where I happened to go through numerous trends (all of which were bad) and numerous hair colors (all of which were HIDEOUS).

I guess this post just stems back to the whole "Guys are up my butt when I don't want them to be" post. I will state yet once again (adding a key adjective by Maims): "I already have a boyfriend -- an abusive one at that. And his name is Roller Derby."

P.S. - Fall is here basically, and that means APPLE PICKINZ at Collidahs -- watch out Lunenberg folk, the Pissahs are coming!

Magic!

I believe that my boobs have the power to heal. Let me explain...

So all day yesterday at work I kept getting pinched on my side and I couldn't figure out what it was. I thought at first that it was my chair, but no. Then I thought some weirdo was doing it, like he was hiding under my desk, but no. So I went to the bathroom and found that the wire in my bra had ripped through the fabric and was poking into my side. Pain the ass. I hate buying new bras, it takes forever. The rest of my day was spent trying to push the wire back in every few hours to stop the annoying pinching.

I went to dinner at my dads after work to survey what had been taken and presented my list of DVDs that I could remember us owning. (P.S. - My dad's house was robbed for anyone that didn't already know) And I kept on pushing the annoying wire back in over and over again.

I got home, and changed into my pjs (not even thinking about the bra). I always sleep with a bra on, because Tyra Banks says your boobs (if big enough) will get all saggy after years of sleeping with no bra -- and no thanks to that! So I fell asleep with the broken bra on, because I couldn't be bothered with getting up, changing my bra, then going back to bed.

I woke up this morning, did my usual routine -- contacts, brushing teeth, make up, etc. When I went to put my work clothes on, I took off my shirt and realized that "Oh yeah, gotta change my bra cause that annoying wire.". I looked down at the bra and I realized that the wire was no longer sticking out....in fact, the hole that the wire had ripped in order to poke through WASN'T EVEN THERE ANYMORE.

Now, I am currently in a state somewhere between shock, confusion and awe. How the fuck did this happen? Do my boobs possess the magic to heal bras? Did I get up in the middle of the night and go to the store to buy an exact replica of this bra and put it on in that sleepwalking/sleepbrabuying state?

Or?....is it the magic of Ohioooooo? I guess I'll never know.

Caution: Extreme Boredom may lead to annoying surveys...

I apologize in advance, I don't do surveys. But I am so god damn bored!!!

1. Where is the last place you held hands? Yesterday during practice, Deck is my BIATCH!
2. If you were drafted into a war, would you survive? I would probably end up shooting myself in the foot by accident.
3. Do you sleep with the TV on? Hells no.
4. Have you ever drank milk straight out of the carton? Abso-fucking-lutely.
5. Have you ever won a spelling bee? No, but I won a contest in 1st grade where you have to color in the American Flag -- still have my trophy.
6. What is your longest fight with one of your friends? Going on 2 months now!
7. Are you a fast typer? What? I was typing so fast I didn't get the questions. And, anyone can be a fast typer -- the question SHOULD be, are you good at typing fast with no spelling errors? Anyone can be like "skajraiweuthglaeuhgluwrhglauehglauieth -- whoa dude, I just typed that SO FUCKING FAST."
8. Are you afraid of the dark? Only if Voldemorts in the bed with me.
9. Do you like someone right now? Ya, your mom.
10. What ended your last relationship? Me -- having the awesome talent of fucking other dudes. NBD.
12. Do you knock on wood? Yes, and if there isn't any around, I knock on my head! And P.S. I'm scratching my head right now wondering where question 11 went.
13. Are you drinking anything right now? Water, from my OHIOOOOOOOOOOO mug. Not really, but I wish I had my mug.
14. Do you think you're smart? Duh.
15. Have you ever been in love? Yes...booooo
16. Do you miss someone right now? Chainsaw!!! And some derby girls, I haven't seen them in 12 hours.
17. What do you want for Christmas? A KEEPON!! http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3g-yrjh58ms
18. Do you know the muffin man? No, but I do know the muff man...ew. that was gross, I don't know him.
20. Do you remember your 1st crush? Yes! (Guess question #19 wasn't important either)
21. Have you ever flown a kite? What are you a communist?! Who HASN'T flown a kite?!
22. When was the last time that you went swimming and where? I honestly don't remember, thats sad -- I think last summer?
23. Do you consider yourself successful? Oh ya -- I'm famous and all.
24. How many people are on your contact list of your cell phone? I have NO ide, maybe around 75?
25. Have you ever asked for a horse? Horse? No. Pony? Definitely.
26. Plans for 2MORROW? Um trying to not kill myself with the horrendous spelling of "tomorrow". No but really going to the PRD bout to route on my fantastic Burnin' Helen!!
27. What did you do this past weekend? OOOOOOOOOOHIOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
28. Miss being at school right now? Not. At. All.
29. When's the last time you told someone you loved them? This morning, talking to Burnin' Helen
30. Do you want to be single? Actually, yeah!
32. Who's your hero? Samuel Bert, google it, you'll know why.
33. Have you ever been suspended or expelled from school? Suspended for 1/2 a day. Yessssss...I'm a bad ass!
34. What are you looking forward to? The next time the Pissahs play
35. If you could be stranded with one person for 24 hours, who would it be? Well I know who it wouldn't be. David Hasslehoff. Probably Spite, cause we're such dickwagons together that it would be a fun 24 hours. OH WAIT. We were stranded together for 120 hours! Yessssssssss!
38. Can you handle the truth? Unless the truth is why there are so many questions missing from this survey, then no.
39. Do you like green eggs and ham?? I might have been inclined to say "yes", if you didn't push me with that extra question mark... so the answer is NO.
40. What 3 things do you always bring with you to places? My pachach, cell phone, sarcasm
41. Any cool scars? I have one on top of my right hand from where a girl scratched me when I tried to steal a strawberry out of her lunch box (3rd grade). Appendix scars are pretty cool now too. So, yes -- I have many awesome scars that I'm proud of!
42. Are you missing in action??? Get the fuck out of my life, asswagon.
44. What's your deepest secret? I saw Riverdance when I was 12.
45. How often do you talk on the phone? At work? A lot. Regular life? Not a whoooole lot.
46. Do you believe in love? Eh, I guess.
47. Is there something you want that you can't have? Um, who doesn't?
49. When was your last time you cried? Hmm...about 3 weeks ago?
50. Who did you last hug? Claire D. Way -- we missed each other.
51. Do you get along with your family? Immediate family, my 2 aunts and my Grammy -- the rest can go to hell.
52. Where is your phone? On my desk!
53. What was the last thing you ate? Kit Kat bar. I'm not ashamed!
54. Favorite color? Gimme a break. And I'm not just saying that cause my last answer was a Kit Kat Bar...I mean seriously, this question is retarded.
55. Last movie you saw? Hairspray with Momma Feevs -- she was embarrassed when I started dancing in the theater.
56. What song are you listening to? Theme from Edward Scissorhands (listening to Beethoven.com -- it makes me not want to kill people at work)
57. What do you want? A real vacation!
58. Favorite car? Just got a brand new Nissan Versa, that's pretty up there.
59. What T.V. show are you watchin? Um, I'm at work. How dare you insinuate that I would not be doing something professional...oh wait. Doing a survey. Hmph.
60. Who was the last person you talked to on the phone? Momma Feevs about how we're going to see Lewis Black Labor Day weekend!!! I'll get in on that. (I even got her to say "Like ya do!") <3

Important Massacre Stats

Number of games played: 1

Number of portraits of the drunken Twin Riot: 1

Amount of time it took for our room to look like a bomb went off: 10 minutes

Number of Jello shots consumed in 1 evening: at least 40

Number of times Claire D. Way pushed Fevah out of her chair: 2

Number of age bets Fevah won: 1 ("He's lying...he's still 12.")

Number of times the Massacre actually went out into the light of day: 4

Amazing quotes from QSand: too many to count

Number of times hotel staff were told off by Fevah: 2

Number of times Lady E was worn: 0

Number of times Spite insulted Fevah but followed up with an "OHIOOOOOO!!": 34,589

Time spent at Fame's Breakfast Diner: approximately 5 hours

Fried food consumed: Enough to make a large elephant puke

Blankets stolen from Spite: 1, on numerous occasions

Number of times we almost vomited from watching a certain Philly player making out with her husband: 1

Number of times the announcers mentioned Quidditch from Harry Potter: 1

Number of injuries received while on the plane: 2 (Buse's head and Fevah's tooth after eating the animal crackers provided)

Number of actual Riots in Columbus: 1 (Twin Riot not included)

Number of beers brought into Battelle Hall in Spite's messenger bag: 16

Number of awkward moments while riding in the elevator: Everytime we took an elevator.




The following list is in regards to phrases that were spoken, and how many times:


"D-wagon": 987,658

"What the WTF": 4,587

"OHIOOOOOOOOOOOOO": Not enough times for it to get old.

"I'll get in on that": Not nearly enough times.

"No really guys, I'm not mad!": 5 (all from Q Sand when Spite and I kept coming to the room either drunk or just loud and obnoxious)

"You know what's great? 2 percocets and a beer.": 1

"GET IN THE GAME, ASS WAGON!!": 1

"Are these your pants or my pants?" "Mine." "....are these your socks or my socks?" "I think mine...": 1

I'm sure there are many MANY things that I have obviously left out because besides getting our asses beat by 5 measly points in overtime against Detroit -- I had a fucking phenomenal time in Ohio. Don't get me wrong, I'm psyched to be home, but the Massacre definitely had a doozy of a time this weekend.

You just flat-tired me!

This annoys me.

As I was walking into work this morning, I noticed that one of the many nerdy researchers was so close behind me -- it was like he was actively trying to get up my ass. So I open the first door and hold it for him (which isn't hard because he's so damn close to me) and as I open the second door to get into the actual lobby, he fucking steps on the back of my foot.

ARE YOU KIDDING ME? Are you THAT excited to get into work that you are willing to fucking trample anyone in your way?! Gimme a break. Honestly. And not even an apology! In reaction to all this, I just stopped walking abruptly and this moron ran into me completely -- That's how close he was STILL. I turned around and say "Excuse you, asshole." (which was probably lost on him cause there are maybe 7 people in the building that speak English fluently). He gave me this wicked scared look and literally ran to the elevator. What a bitchbag.

What the WTF?

Why is it that guys come out of the woodwork when you least expect it?

In the last 2 weeks, I had 1 guy at the grocery store check out aisle try to start up a conversation which then lead to him wanting to go out with me and THEN (this is my favorite)...2 guys who I showed my apt to in the hunt for roomies (who both declined the room)asked me out on dates. One to the symphony, the other just out for a romantic dinner. Sorry, I have a boyfriend....and his name is Roller Derby.

But honestly, it's not that these things don't interest me -- you all know how much I love food and classical music. I'm just not in the mood to get into yet another relationship. Commitment? No thanks. I have enough of that, move on.

Ohio is slowly creeping up and that means...I have to fucking pack! As long as I don't get put through the bomb detecting machine again, I should be ok. Aaaaaaaaaand I get to watch Spite on drugs -- I'll have to buy a disposable camera for that shit. I also will have to come up with a repertoire of songs to lull her into relaxation if said drugs don't have a full effect. Suggetions are welcome.

I'm a walking & talking science project.

After coming home from the Bus Stop Pub (where I had the bejesus scared out of me thanks to Dire Straights and his "Sultans of Swing"), I had to hop in the shower due to yet another smelly, sweaty, humid Pissah practice.

As I was looking in the mirror (as all girls do before they get into the shower), I looked at the smallest of the 3 incisions from my appendix surgery and realized it hadn't fully scarred over yet. In fact, it looked like the scab was about ready to fall off. So I picked at it, like a retahd and felt something prick me -- not like a needle or anything as sharp, but it was definitely the edge of something. I then proceeded to pull a piece of clear plasticy string out of the incision. It comes to my attention that maybe, just maybe, my stitches are still in the incisions from my surgery well over a month ago.

I thought that I had received dissolvable stitches. And even though I was a little curious as to why my incisions were still red, I just assumed that these things took time. I also thought, that if I needed to go back to get stitches out -- that they would be black. So I can only assume at this point that my body (as finicky as it is) instead of rejecting these dissolvable stitches and breaking them down (like it's supposed to), it has welcomed them with open cells and they are now residing in my body forever. I'm considering finding a way to take them out myself -- orrrrrr I could just call my PCP and ask if she can take them out. Probably the latter, seeign as I would probably try to cut my other incisions open with a nail clipper or something similar and get gangreen and die. That's my luck!

Also...

**Update on car findings**

I forgot to mention that I also found my autographed picture of Bob Villa that I got for my birthday from my friend Denise a few years ago.

Oh Bob Villa....you're so dreamy.

Lots of Shtuff.

Yesterday was the day I ended up cleaning out my Saturn in order to drop it off to the Dealership without them saying 'Hey, I don't want all this crap!'

Here is what came from this (all of which were in LARGE black trash bags):

-2 bags of trash
-1 bag of clothes (including 4 pairs of derby socks I thought I lost, part of my Massacre uni, 3 sweaters, 1 pair of pants, 2 scarves, a hat, a pair of gloves, etc.)
-3 car jacks (why would I only have 1? That's ordinary.)
-my music stand and music bag
-2 bags of completely random items, some of which I would like to keep, others I'm not even going to take a wild guess as to how they got there.

*Some of these items include: 2 bobbleheads - a cat and a frog that has Amanda's picture in it, a VHS copy of Return of the Jedi, a 1986 North Andover Yearbook (I was 2 in 1986 by the way...), NUMEROUS pictures from my high school graduation and the party that followed, a employee handbook from Dunkin Donuts from 5 years ago, a framed picture of Jeff King aka Sully tha Gully sitting on another mans lap (the idea behind this I later realized was they were both in wearing camoflauge clothes, Jeff was wearing a coat, while the other guy was wearing pants....they were the "Upper" and "Lower" GI for Halloween...yeah I know), my early high school marching band jacket -- which conveniently folded into itself to form a little pouch, 6 balls of yarn with 2 sets of knitting needles, a number of notes that had been left on my windsheild at one point, and about $5.78 in change.

There were plenty more things, but honestly...2 whole bags?! What the hell.

My resolution is to keep this new car clean -- well, as clean as I can. As I dropped the Saturn off this morning, I felt almost remorse -- it's been a pretty good car. And I'll definitely miss it sometimes, but I am on to bigger and better things.

But I do LOOOOOOOVE my new car. Pictures to come of me in it. Maims will officially be the first passenger in my new car tomorrow, and she'll have a camera. Yayyeeeee!

Come to me, Michael Bublé.

Now, hear me out.

You may think he has an asshole name. You may think he's lame cause he's been covering some of Frank's old songs. You may think that I'm a 45 year old woman because I love him.

But I love him.

There's no stopping my love for the Bublé. He's adorable and can sing his ass off. I would literally kill anyone that would hurt my Bublé.

I will find a way to meet him and make him love me back dammit. You just wait.

In other news!! MINI-GOLF AND BBQ THIS FRIDAY WITH THE PISSAHS! Yayyeeee!! Anything to see Deck and Shattered fight about who is the better athlete -- even if it is just mini-golf. Aaaaaand I finally get to see Collidah after, what seems like, 4 years. Can't wait!!!!!

The Shit Show.

That's what it has turned into lately. The shit show. It's at a point where if I say something "out of line" (even if not on purpose) it turns into a frenzy and I get scolded. Now -- if someone else says some as equally inappropriate, it's like nothing ever happened (i.e. - "Cause we actually come to practice.") And the pushing never ends. I understand we're at a certain level -- but for Christ's sake! It's not the god damn Olympics. I can't wait for September.

Going out with the Deck-Hers tonight to see Shakespeare in the Park -- YAYYEE! I'm excited for lawn chairs and thai food. My friend Paul is in the show, so it should be quite entertaining! I think what I'm most excited about, is bringing my lawn chair onto the T. I can't wait to hit some mofos in the face with that thing.

I hate the guy that works across the hall. Sometimes I think I could get to like him -- but then he does something so fucking retarded, that I'm automatically forced to change my mind. He's too effin HAPPY. This is BOSTON, get over yourself and get with the program! Anger and bitterness are your new best friends -- get to know them well.

I also am sick of people. People that I thought I knew, but obviously don't.

Don't you just hate the Shit Show?

Wicked Ahhhtsy.

I thought that maybe this year's birthday would be ruined with something. And I was surprised to find out that the day went much better than expected. Between all my teammates, friends and family wishing me well and the ice cream spree at work and the rainy Red Sox game with my dad, I had a pretty awesome day.

I also had an awesome weekend. I spend all Friday evening/night with Jenna, Melody, Jake, Emily and Greg in Hogwarts Square (Harvard Sq), anxiously awaiting the release of the 7th and final Harry Potter book. It was definitely heartbreaking to think that this is the last time I'll be around crazy HP fans (except for movies - but not the same). We had a fantastic time, getting followed by a crazy girl, giving her the slip, waiting at Unos for an eternity. Getting Butterbeer and Polyjuice Potion -- which was rather disappointing, but I guess that's not all that surprising when you expect Butterbeer to taste like melted down Wether's candy. Around 1:30am, I had my book in hand and went home to read a few chapters before passing out. I've since finished the book, but I won't ruin anything in case people are still reading it. But I definitely liked it.

Saturday, the Massacre took a trip down to NY to scrimmage against the Gotham Girls. After nearly being killed by a toll booth, we made it there and were amped to play. This is when I realized that Quick Sandy had actually written me a birthday poem:

A Birthday Poem for Harlot Fevah

Fevah is awesome,

Her back is not.

I helped her put pants on once,

It was pretty hot.

She always makes me laugh,

She's really fucking funny.

I scared her for life,

The Halloween Faster was a bunny.

I like the ladies,

She likes dudes.

But that doesn't stop her,

From screaming, "SHOW ME YA BOOBS!"

I heart Harlot Fevah

I heart her a lot.

I helped her put pants on once,

It was pretty hot.

I HEART Q SAND TIMES A MILLION KAJILLION. It made my day go by that much smoother. I can't really think of what else to write about. So the end.

Seriously?

So, I'm leaving work yesterday (already in a shitty mood) and I think, "Thank God. Today is over."

I get into the elevator and press 4, cause I'll be DAMNED if I'm walking up 4 flights of stairs. And I hear the door open, and me -- being a nice person (hahaha) -- I hold the elevator in case this person wants to get in as well. This guy, maybe a few years older than me, gets into the elevator. I give him a half-assed smile, one that should make any man melt god dammit. And he looks at me, looks at the elevator panel with the buttons and says:

"Press Five."

Not a "Can you please press 5?". Not even a FUCKING please.

I turned around and looked at him and said "You're kidding me, right?" to which he gave me this looks as if to say "I have no idea why you're being a bitch to me right now." So I turned around and kicked every button on the panel. He then started muttering under his breath so I turned and stared at him the entire way up to the 4th floor. The elevator finally makes it to the 4th floor and I walk out with a certain glee about me. I turned and flipped off the guy and then I thanked the stars that I still have my Saturn with dent resistant doors as I kicked the living shit out it.

Happy fucking birthday to me.

But...Harry Potter 7 comes out TOMORROW. Hells yes.

Should have posted this first....

What the hell.

Why am I doing this?

Like I need another distraction from work or anything else. I already HAVE a freakin blog!! I guess I just felt left out of the blogspot gang. Collidah, Maims, Natae....this is for you guys!

Now, I will keep my myspace blog for longer, more in depth posts. BUT, I would like to use this as a "Holy mother of god, why is the world like this?" kind of thing.

EXAMPLE:

Why is it, that when you go to a self-check out isle at the super marker, one of the following people is in front of you?

-A couple that has absolutely NO IDEA how this works

-A person that has an entire cart of groceries ready to scan -- hey asshole, it for only a FEW ITMS!

-A person with a million and one coupons. Hey, guess what? No one cares that you've wasted most of your life cutting out these damn things so you only have to pay like $3.67 -- it's not worth it

-Someone that puts an item on the weigh station, then automatically picks up the bag so the following message sounds: "Item removed from bagging area. Replace item and continue scanning."

And if it's not that, then its someone who is UP YOUR ASS behind you waiting to get to the machine you're at. Wait your damn turn and get the fuck away from me! I usually never give these retards the chance, because I give them a look as if to say "If you come any closer, this pretty little tattooed foot is going right up your ass."

I am a bitter angry woman. Make sure to look back at the rest of my ramblings and aggravations!