Wednesday, March 30, 2005

A letter to the 32 million people who voted poorly last night

Dear America,

I'm so very VERY sad.

First of all, I am very confused/disturbed/upset by your choice for the bottom three. Why Jessica? She's been consistently good! I can only shake my head. Why not throw Anthony in there? Because he took his glasses off? Why not Constantine? He can't hold a tune, let alone a melody. And Scott? Well he was just awful last night. I'm usually a fan but come on people!! Nikko? All Nikko can sing is R&B. He's such a HACK. I agree with Anwar as a choice but that's the only place we're on the same page.

But American, you have truly broken my heart by voting off Jessica. She's amazing. Was it because she sang a song that you didn't really know? It is because she died the under layer of her hair a slightly alarming black? It is because she was almost too predictable as the second runner up?

What I'm most upset about is that you just made the competition really boring. Carrie will obviously win. I don't even need to watch anymore.

And that just makes me ache. That's right...ACHE.

What will you do about it?


p.s. Can we talk about the Ford Commercial this week? Was I seeing things, or were all of the idols dressed as large, scary puppets of their own likenesses?

This is me, completely unimpressed

The Idol was muy terrible last night. I won't mince words. I was actually...bored.

Insert *gasp* here

First of all, this whole "I'm Paula Abdul and I'm fucking sauced out of my mind" shtick needs to end. What is this woman thinking? Come on Paula...everyone notices. Stop getting high before and during the show.

2. Of ALL the song categories out there, the producers pick "The 90's"

Seriously?? I knew it would be all down hill from there, folks.

Let's call it out, shall we?

Bo: You did a good job, my friend. And your hair doesn't look so much like it was attacked by a straightening iron.

(Important side note that is completely unrelated to this post: My lip zit is thinking about making a return engagement)

Jessica: I have never heard this song. It was boring. But I still love you and your overbite.

Anwar: HORRENDOUS. Oh man. I hope he's going home. I was so on his bandwagon a couple weeks ago, too. Not only do I HATE "I Believe I Can Fly" by fucking R. Kelly but it was a terrible rendition. TERRIBLE.

Nadia: Not boring but I'm really still wretching over Anwar.

Constantine: A ballad. Go figure. You still can't sing. And you're ugly.

Nikko: I hate you. And you sang an R&B song. Huge surprise, assface.

Anthony: I strongly dislike you. Your voice is...shrill.

Carrie: I love you, but you have the personality of a wet paper bag. Keep rocking the big hair.

Scott: You wore pajamas. You didn't sound as good as last week. I'm sorry.

Vonzel: Genuis. Loved it. You looked smokin hot. Whoever is doing your eye makeup should win a special eye make up prize. I'd totally do you. But I like penis too much.

But I digress...

I cannot believe the lip zit returns.

(don't pick it don't pick it don't pick it)

Smiles for Miles

I had a great day today. I mean fantastic. And the best part is this:

There was so particular reason for it.

In other news:
I started to write a short story yesterday to post here but Blogger went down and I lost the post. I took it as a sign that I shouldn't put such heavy stuff in here.

So, what you've all been waiting for will have to wait longer (humor me).

But to give you a sampling:
I'm angry because I'm disappointed. Not in one particular person or thing, but in general. The reason for this is still up for discussion. But I need a new therapist because, if you're a regular reader, you'll know my last one broke up with me.

Whatever. It's not meant to be.

Tuesday, March 29, 2005

"I support the war but I do not support our troops"

I just split my thumb nail. Dammit.

So it occured to me after a few of my daily reads that my blog is about me...and American Idol...and that's it. I never talk about anything "serious" or even poke fun at anything serious. I really have no idea what's going on, actually.

I guess that makes me a typical 20 something, but my apathy scares me sometimes. I should be...more interested, more active, more informed.


Maybe it will be a new goal. Or not. I don't know.

I'll do what I want to do!

Right? RIGHT?!?!

Monday, March 28, 2005

"We should meet"

[The "why I'm so angry" post will come later. Like I said, I'll keep up the anticipation.]

I have a hard time understanding the "bar scene" sometimes, specifically the interactions between men and women.

According to my sister, women give off phermones or whatever when they're ovulating. She almost has me convinced, and here's why.

I went out Friday and Saturday night. I looked pretty good both nights...but not like super hot or anything. I'm a modest person for the most part, so bear with me here...the flow (pun intended) of men in my general direction was unprecedented. I mean...we're talking I was surrounded.

Friday night found Miss Lisa and I at a bar she visits frequently, mostly because she just happens to work there and knows everyone. It's a nice feeling, you can be comfortable and there's always some guy who works there who Lisa knows that wouldn't let anyone fuck with us. So, the crazy amount of men surrounding her and Courtney and I could have had something to do with that (uh, most likely) but that doesn't explain Saturday night.

Saturday night I went out with my older friend for her 43rd birthday. We went to some local places in the middle of nowhere and, once again, I was like a man magnet. Bartenders (ok, ok, kind of their job) and patrons alike were all up in my biz. It felt nice...I haven't felt all that attractive in quite some time.

But the real kicker brings us back to Friday night. I meet Sean, who is 30 and won't stop talking about how great my lips are. I have great lips, true, but I'm uncomfortable with compliments that have anything to do with my face (why? god, I don't know either...perhaps something to do with not being used to them) and it was throwing me off my game. So, before I leave, I ask Sean if he wants my number. He says yes, I give it to him and I say "So, you remember my name, right?" Well, the answer was no and I just think that's lame. You've been talking to me for an hour or more and you don't remember my name, nor did you ask for it again once you became more interested. Call me picky, but that's just asking for me to critize your people skills. He's in sales too which is just sad. Don't they teach you those weird word associations when you're in sales to remember people's names? For god's sake...

Nevertheless, I speak with Sean later that evening and he suggests I come over to his place "for some beers." Uhm...I don't know you, it's 2am and I'm really tired. If you want to get laid, perhaps you should just come out and say it. What's with the games? Why can't this hornball just be straight with me? Granted it wouldn't have changed my answer, but at least I'd have a little more respect for the guy and maybe, just maybe, consider going on an actual date with him.

And then when you find a guy you actually like who wouldn't do crap like that, he's a big pussy and just won't ask you out on a date already and then you have to do it and you're afraid he's going to say no because then you'll have to cry in your bed for a day or so because you can't handle any more rejection.


For today, I give up.


Because I'm a severly anal retentive and organized person, I feel the need to organize my thoughts a little better in this here online bloggy thing. I feel as if this blog has no real theme and I kind of want it to, only because having it be so streamlined would just fit so well into my little anal universe.

Alas, the subjects of my posts will still be varied. I'm thinking of starting a new, secret blog for just bitching about work, if only because I'm scared of being one of those people who gets fired for their blog without any sort of severence package. That would put me over the edge. As much as I don't like my job, I need to eat.

In the spirit of switching things up a bit, for my therapy and your own enjoyment, I've decided to write about why I'm so pissed off at just about everything, from the idiot who owns the company I work for to the way total strangers notice, after a five minute conversation with me, that I'm just fucking angry. Sure, that stranger is probably very insightful, but it's still a waste of energy for me to be so pissed off...all the fucking time.

So, stay tuned!

The anticipation is killing you, I know.

Friday, March 25, 2005

List Series Part 2: Rant


1. Whistling, unless it happens to be part of some sort of novelty song, required to entertain a crying baby or used to call a dog. Do. Not.

2. "Sound Systems"
I'm not sure why everyone can't just watch TV at a reasonable volume. Why are subwoofers needed? Why must base be enhanced? These things confuse me. Music can be an entirely different story, but it is just unnecessary to watch Miss Congenialty at full base levels, shaking your entire residence when Candace Bergen gets to the part where she screams and goes crazy.

3. "Uhm" and "Uhhhh"
If you finished your high school education, you should at least have learned how to talk by now. Think about what you saying, then fucking say it. Don't clog up your verbiage with extra nuances or syllables that are not needed. Get to the point.

4. Arrogance
I know we all have to be our own #1 fans, but enough is enough. If you are a cock who thinks he's the best thing since sliced bread, you will have a hard time finding someone to love you, or even be your friend, unless you have an endless supply of money and drugs. Or, unless you find someone or something who is as fucking arrogant and selfish as you are, which is possible. May you live happily ever after.

4. Pussies
Say what you mean. Don't wait for someone else to say it and don't stand in the shadows. Fucking speak up for yourself already. You only live once and your mommy isn't always going to be standing over your shoulder telling you the right thing to do. Small lapses in judgment are, of course, occasionally allowed, especially if alcohol is involved.

5. Shuffling
Pick up your god damn feet when you walk. There is no reason, unless you have walking pneumonia or a terrible hangover, for you to drag your fucking feet like you just learned how to walk. Maybe you should just drag your knuckles on the ground while you're at it.

6. The inability to use an Inside Voice
Hi, I'm right here, standing next to you. There is no need to speak so loudly that I have a sudden urge to go home and get my earplugs in order to drown out of the sound of your shrill, unpleasant tone. The air is already polluted enough.

7. Unorganized Events
If you are planning any sort of party or seminar or, oh I don't know, company mailing, please send out a memo or email or SOMETHING in order to keep everyone involved abreast of the situation. It's not for lack of me trying, but I still cannot read minds. Go figure!

8. Inconsiderate care of a shared space
We've all shared a living space with someone of something at one point in our lives. Yes, I'm even talking to you. It could be at home, or it could even be at work...even at your fitness facility of choice. Please clean up after yourself. Do not ever expect that someone else will "take care of it" unless you still live at home with your mommy and she still wipes your ass after you take a shit. In this case, you're pathetic but I guess you can be as messy as you want. If not, just be considerate. This isn't asking all that much, really...I swear.

9. Pointless/circular conversations
There are several times throughout my day, whether it be with a coworker or a client or a media rep on the phone, that I find myself losing interest in the topic or drifting off to thinking about mini milanos and sweatpants. This is because said individual has not kept my attention because they have no point, expect the one that rests on the top of their head. Get to it, say what you need to say, and let's get on with our lives. I'm growing old trying to decifer what you are actually trying to say through all of your pauses and tangents.

10. Short fuses
We are all guilty of losing it every once in a while and a helpless victim can often be our target. Let's keep this to a minimum. I'm sorry if you had a bad childhood, your father beat you and now you hate your wife and want to strangle your children. Really, I really really am. However, this does not give you the right to snap my head off at some random interval of time. Like I said, we have all done it, including myself. However, deep breaths work wonders and I have a mean right hook.

Thursday, March 24, 2005

"He's not heavy, he's my brother"


What if I have a fat brother?

The name of this song is stupid. Yes, that's right, just friggin stupid.

The performance, however, was actually pretty good. I'm actually impressed.

But not impressed enough to not be pissed at these people anymore. I'm still upset that last night wasn't actually a do-over. They just replayed the same performances. LAME. Let's straighten out what "do-over" means. It means doing something OVER, as in...again. Not what happened, not at all.

The Ford commercial with Smashmouth's "All Star"? That was never a good song. Ev.Er.

I want Nikko to go because for whatever reason, I think he's super creepy. I'm sorry I can't put my finger on it.
I'd like Constantine to leave as well, but for some reason, he hangs on. Maybe it's his hair, or leather pants. I don't know.

Anthony is lame. I was reading this EW article about his performance being good and I almost choked on my banana. The boy can't move his hips without looking like he's humping something! This Michael Slezak is apparently deaf in at least one ear.

Carrie rocks. I've already gone over this.
But Jessica is my favorite. And her slight overbite makes her that much more endearing because she isn't perfect. The last thing this world needs is more perfect people.

I used to be on board with Anwar, I really did. But he was so stiff last night. And he looks so much better than me in those jeans, which isn't fair.

Mikhala...oh Mikhala. I think you're going home tonight.

And...I'm right.

Warning: "Serious" Post

I'm having one of those days (or couple of days) where my head constantly hurts and nothing seems to make sense, where all the pain and grief and sadness in the world feels like it's being poured over my head and there is nothing I can do about it.

I don't know what makes this happen, or why it leaves me as quickly as it arrives. It's like someone else, something else, takes over for a bit and gives me this uneasy, extremely nervous feeling. I have no control and having no control makes me lash out, becoming extremely agitated at everyone and everything that happens to cross my path.

What I'm trying to say's really scary. Horrifying actually. It makes my nauseous, makes me want to retreat to my sweatpants, to my bedroom where no one can talk to me or look at me and where I can just lie there, reading or watching some mindless TV show until it finally wears off. This, however, never seems to do the trick. It usually needs to be yelled out, worked out or sweated out until it's completely and utterly just...gone.

I don't want to use the word anxiety or despair because those words aren't nearly enough to describe it. I hate it, I never welcome it and I have only a vague idea of where it comes from.

I would love to blame it on my stupid job or my lack of suitable (to me) living arrangements or PMS. But none of these things are to blame. It isn't even a combination of them either.

In the past, when I've been in this kind of state, I've written entries about it, about how there is very little that snaps me out of it and about how it may or may not have something to do with body chemistry or the synapses in my brain. But I've had that sarcastic, biting spin on it that I don't have today. Today, I just feel desperate to make it go away.

I hate that I cannot find a direct cause or that I cannot stop it from happening. I hate that is usually culminates in some sort of breakdown that is caused by something minor that really isn't the cause of it at all.

And I think the worst part about it is this: When I think about it or try to figure it out, I come up with nothing.

And it just has to be something.

Wednesday, March 23, 2005


Something isn't right here.

The Idol claims that the voting numbers were displayed incorrectly last night. I disagree. I watched the show, like a hawk, from beginning to end. I'm obsessed with it. I think I would notice. If any of you reading this have TiVo-ed last night's episode, please prove me wrong. I'll have enough trouble sleeping tonight as it is.

I feel like I'm being lied to, and I hate being lied to, especially by a group of producers, including Simon Cowell, that are responsible for one of my most guilty pleasures. It's right up there with stick bologna. That's right. I eat stick bologna like a 4 year old and I love it. Love

I'm so upset that I'm inserting unnecessary puncuation. This is a travesty.

It seems pointless for me to review last night's show, since it has been completely wiped from any record of memory on the Fox Network. This not only saddens me, but makes me very uneasy. Because you see, last night's Idol was the best thing I have ever seen on television. We're talking right up there with that O.C. episode about Tijuana.

Yep, that awesome.

Should I have expected the good people at Fox to let me down? OF COURSE. Does knowing this make my disappointment any easier to bear?


Moving on...

What I will comment on is Paula. I've always thought she was flighty or flaky or spacey, but none of these descriptive adjectives can explain her behavior last night. The only word I can think of is wasted. I know I'm not the only one who noticed her inexplicable outfit (that she seems to have sewn together from scraps of atrocious outfits of Idols past), her extremely floppy hand clapping or her blatant need to practically get up on the judges table and dance to every song, waving her hands in the air like a drunk, bikini clad spring breaker in MIAMI.

Come on, Paula.

I will also comment on the couture of Ryan Seacrest. The man-child was wearing a T-shirt that said "I [heart] expensive T-shirts." Seacrest, put a target on your chest and just get it the fuck over with. I've never wanted the dry, deeply insulting sarcasm of Dunkleman back in such a bad way. Do you see what you've made me say, Seacrest? DO YOU SEE MY PAIN??

I'm all worked up.

The only thing that will come even remotely close to making up for this is if Nadia rocks that mohawk again.
And if Mikala sounds even more like Taylor Dane.
And if I get more ammunition on Nikko...singing a SISQO song...again.

Only then.

Ass Ache

Well well.

Here she is.

I know I haven't posted that long awaited Idol Update (I'm talking to you, Suzie) but I swear it's on its way.

Today was trying at work. I like being busy, it makes the day go by faster. But I hate when I can't finish anything. There are three different "projects" (if you can call them that) going on right now that I can't get anywhere with.

And now I feel like I'm using too many conjunctions. Sigh.

My neck really hurts, and so does my head. It's going to snow tonight. That is just terrible news.

I'm still at work, wrapping up all the loose ends. Oh wait...I can't.

This post is lame, but it's my blog and I can do whatever the hell I want.

Tuesday, March 22, 2005

Carrie Underwood just rocked my world

All of a sudden, I have goosebumps and I want to go out and buy everything that Heart ever did.

Fuck yeah!

And the hair!!!

I love big hair.

Simon just predicted she would win the competition AND sell the most records of any winner ever.

That's ballsy Si Si.

And of course...

I completely love all of it.

List Series, Part 1: Things I think I have always kind of known but more recently have fully come to realize

I am more jealous of perky boobs than I am of flat stomachs.

I love angry chick music, unapologetically.

My driving is very scary. This, however, does not make it bad.

I have taken some of my best friendships for granted. But no longer.

I don't want to say "excuse me" after every time I burp...but I will.

I deserve to be happy.

It's OK to have "I want my sister" moments rather than "I want my mommy" moments.

There are few things better than a bag of mini milano's, my warm bed and a good book.

I'm really fucking angry. And I know exactly why.

I'm more "normal" and "stable" than I have ever given myself credit for.

I love my eyelashes.

I love to snuggle...with a niece, nephew, certain dog named Max and certain cat named Bonkey.

I am constantly humbled by my friends, family and life in general.

I really don't have it that bad at all.

Monday, March 21, 2005

"I have too many friends"

Ugh...the Starfish strikes again. If you forgot what an arrogant, no talent ass-clown he is, click here.

While trying to make idle chit chat with him this morning (painful), I asked him about Friendster which is, sadly, a new obsession of mine (insert pitiful "awww" here). And his response was "Why would I do that? I already have too many friends."

Uhm. Who says that?

I think he means "acquaintances" and not real "friends."

He probably considers the entire active player list of the Syracuse basketball team (don't know the name, don't care) his "friends."

I can't stand him.

Oh and...I'll start that job search soon. The Doll had me go downstairs to fetch his lunch today because he was "expecting an important call." An important call from whom? I hope it was from some idiot who wants to buy this shameful excuse for a business.

I'm next out of here god dammit!!


Work continues to be soul sucking and intensely boring.

Haven't browsed for a job yet.

I think Lisa fell asleep with her eyes open for about 5 minutes earlier today and was roused by The Doll running into the trash can...again. He walks with this strange limp that I sometimes impersonate. And then Lisa tries to talk while she's laughing and can't. We *sometimes* have fun around here.

But really...what I have to write about it maggots.

Yes, that's right: MAGGOTS. I'm sure that 50 million doctors or whatever can't be wrong but...putting maggots in an open wound? I'm not usually a squeamish person but that is just fucking disgusting. Ew ew ew EWWWWWWWW.

Oddly enough, I want to see pictures of this. Despite the fact that this grosses me out beyond belief, I want to see more, know more and reach the point of almost vomitting up my Special K.

I think I'm a masochist, but I'm not sure.

It's more like...the human condition. The car crash that you have to slow down for because a part of your brain hopes that it sees blood, guts, a human head rolling around on the pavement.

I sound so sick and twisted. But I really don't think I'm alone.

They like me...they really like me!

It's Monday morning. I've already read Mango, Dating Dummy, StupidFamousPeople, etc.

I have very little work to do.

I will find a new job today.

My horoscope says that I will get out of my rut by Wednesday at the latest.

I've never wanted a contrived, random comment to be so true.

More rants, and praises, perhaps...later.

After I've woken up and am not so cranky.

But my nails look that's something.

Friday, March 18, 2005

Highly disillusioned

Now I just feel naive.

Mario is just confusing me.

I mean, you gotta take care of number one but...why'd you lie dude? AND why are you trying to cover your ass on a lie that we all know is a lie? Just suck it up, do the stuff you need to do with your contracts and then maybe, just maybe, you can have a decent career. Then again, you are getting up there in years.

Also...I think I need to start cutting all of the people out of my life who suck and spending more time with the people who are awesome. I've come to understand that I need those who I care about to demonstrate compassion. Why did I not realize this before? Why have I been wasting my energy? Because that much change is fucking scary. I'm OK with admitting that.

How will I distract myself enough to deal with all of this in an emotionally healthy way?
Well, Television of course.

The O.C. was pretty lame last night.

But the EW article written about it has higher entertainment value.

I can't decide if entertainment whose only goal is to comment on other entertainment is a terrible thing or a wonderful thing.

Thursday, March 17, 2005

I can't hear myself think

Last night's Idol, as already reported, please me highly.

What I completely forgot to write about was the 12-voiced rendition of "When You Tell Me That You Love Me" which was so awesomely bad that I just had to mention it. It was pitched too low for many of the contestants and I hope against all hope that the recorded version is better. I won't buy it, nor will I even think about getting tickets for the "tour." That is a whole other level of obsession which I am not at all comfortable with. I'm in it for the entertainment value (small screen) but I'm not about to devote a Saturday night to watching mostly subpar over priced.

In other news, I've joined Friendster in an attempt to fill time today (slow day at work) and stay distracted. It's an interesting phenomenon and I'm not all that sure how I feel about it. Lisa is whoring me out, which is good things are happening.

I'm very disappointed in a couple individuals right now because I feel as if I've been robbed of something. I'll recover, no doubt, but it still stings and makes me question my ability to judge character. Sometimes, it takes an unusual or highly emotional circumstance for people to show their true colors.

On the other hand, I am pleasantly surprised and pleased with the support of others, some I know very well, some not so well, and some I have never met.

I feel let down and lifted up all at the same time.

Oh shit...almost forgot...Happy St. Patrick's Day.

Wednesday, March 16, 2005

Dancy Party, Ford Style

So I'm watching The Idol results show and all caught up in the excitement again. I'm over that Mario left and I'm feeling good about the top 12. Do I have a choice? No, not really. I could stop watching but...I can't. It's just too late. I've invested too much time and energy, too much emotion and entirely too much money on junk food.

SO right after Seacrest went to commercial (hold you breath for results!), this Ford commercial comes on. It's a dance party setting, featuring all of the top 12, singing along and making complete fools of themselves. Bo and Nikko are so obviously trying not to laugh and I just feel...dirty. How much more obvious and shamless can this show be in their exploitation of these individuals? When will the ratings be high enough? When will it be enough? Then I think: The final 12 are doing this of their own will. They are eating up their 15 minutes of fame because it could end at anytime. It's so gut wrenching and materialistic and consumer-driven and I just...

I just fucking love it.

"No, I don't use stamps"

My boss is such a fucking anal retentive ass. The Doll strikes again, just when I really don't want to deal with his shit. He interviewed someone for the "Sales" position today, a position that has been open since last November, a position that he has interviewed at least 20 people for. The newest victim was here for about three hours and took it upon himself to roam around the office, looking into our files and over our shoulders. Ew. He reminds me of a teacher I had in high school. A history teacher. With nose hair. And a navy blue blazer with gold buttons. Again, Ew!

Warning: I'm feeling a little volatile (I think it's repressed anger with myself...just guessing) and there may be more cursing to follow...or not.

I'm not going to say anything on the topic of "Wonder Boy"'s previous comment except for this: I feel as though my blog has been violated and I'm not happy about it. Oh, and one other thing: the subject line is a direct quote from self labeled "anonymous" when asked if he could mail me the money he owes me. Lame.

This, like so many other things, will soon come to pass. Bloggers unite!

I'm such a dork, I know. I know!

I didn't watch The Idol last night. I had convinced myself that it was on at 9 instead of 8 and missed all of the performances except for Carrie and Nikko, neither of which got me excited. So, for those of you who look here for an update, no luck today (Sorry Suzie!).

But I will watch the results show this evening...I think. I'm still upset about Mario. He seems vague about why he left and I wish he would just tell us. I guess part of the excitement is keeping it it a secret.

I have a movie that's due tonight at midnight that I still haven't watched called Baadassss! I rented it because I had read a great review of it in EW when it first came out in the theaters. I think I'm supposed to watch the movie that it is about first so maybe it will make more sense. I'm trying to become more cultured or whatever. Maybe I should just admit that I really don't care. But I want to care! I do!

The ladies at work got me out of the office for an hour or so for lunch today. It was nice and a needed a break from this shit. But now I'm back...and I hate it again.

Still no word from possible interview/job lady.

It's a bitter, bitter day, folks.

And I'm just fucking fine with that.

Tuesday, March 15, 2005

Boyfriends are stupid

Well, as some of you may have noticed, or known, things with "the boyfriend" really haven't been going that well lately. It's been rough on me. I've tried to be patient, sympathetic and kind...all of the things that a wonderful girlfriend represents.

Well, his little "what's wrong with not talking for a whole weekend?" stunt was the nail in the coffin. I gave up, told him this was all crap and he wasn't even trying to put an effort in and...just like that...he resorted to being a 2 year old, told me to come and get my stuff if I wanted it and said "bye." Oh, and I wouldn't want to forget to mention that this was all over AOL Instant Messenger. Oh the shame! But wonder boy can't take phone calls at work (partially my fault apparently) so, this girl had no other choice. Oh...and he blamed this all on me.

Cool. SO, onto bigger and better things. Sure, I'll miss the good times (there were some) but I won't miss always wondering, always hoping and always knowing that I deserve better. Because I do. And sure...I'll have my bad moments (crying while on the stairmaster at the gym anyone?) but I'm strong and I can kick it.

Good news!
I had a phone call today with a new potential employer! I'll keep you updated.

More good news!
The Idol is on tonight and the final 12 are going to ROCK it (I hope). And so what if Mario isn't there? Maybe he would have choked anyway.

Additional good news!
I'm getting my hair cut tonight. Blubbering to my hairdresser anyone? YES!!

Monday, March 14, 2005

I hate my job...again

Something needs to be done.

Something extreme and harsh and crazy and completely and utterly desperate.

I need to get out of here.

My job, my apartment...everything is making me question...everything.

It is as desperate as it sounds.

So, I need a plan. Searching and applying for jobs has not worked. What interviews I have gone on have been fruitless.

Getting money from my parents, while lucrative and easy, is not my style.

I'm not hot enough (or, actually, ugly enough) to sell my body.

BUT...and just work with me here...

I'm thinking...

And keep an open mind...

Plus Size Model.

This question needs an answer

Horrible news alert:
Mario, my favorite American Idol contestant, has left the show for "personal reasons.",6115,1037726_10_0_,00.html

It all seems very questionable and sketchy. But, then again, it just wouldn't be exciting if there wasn't some sort of scandal. I bet the producers payed him to give some lame excuse to leave in order to generate interest, as if their ratings weren't high enough already. I guess I'll get over it and develop and new favorite. As if the producers have left me with another choice. I wish they hadn't brought back Nikko though. I don't like him. He's creepy.

I had a pretty laid back, boyfriend-free weekend for the first time in I don't even know how long. It seemed odd at some level, especially since he interpreted "down time" as "we couldn't talk at all" time, and did not call me (nor did I call him...battle of the wills, people) for the entire weekend. We are both extremely stubborn, so who knows if we will ever speak again.

Also: PMS reached it's all time peak last night. I hate to use it as an excuse (but I will), but it really does send me soaring and turn me into a very different person (pathetic, blubbering, very VERY angry) for one week out of the month. It's intensity is varying and this month, the week of PMS gets 5 stars.

When I pulled into my driveway after eight hours of laying on my cousin's couch and watching bad/Lifetime movies and eating Chinese food (Thanks Smartygirl), the lesbians [insert politically incorrect explitive] that live downstairs had parked half in their spot and half in mine, which I had shoveled the very heavy slush out of earlier that day. My anger peaked, followed by a blubbering phone call to my sister about above boyfriend situation. She calmed me down and I have returned to normalcy (?).

But I still don't understand men. Are you all big dumb fatheads?

Friday, March 11, 2005

Shiver me timberlands!

I know I promised another Employee Profile this week (finally) and I may still get to it, but first...

I have yet to mention my love of pirate jokes. There is an endless supply of them as they are all wonderfully funny, yet ridiculously simple, plays on words. Some of them are stupid, yes, that's true. But stupid can STILL be funny. Never underestimate the stupid...or the value of a terrible joke.

My favorite pirate joke goes something like this:

This pirate walks into a bar with a big ship's wheel down his pants.

The bartender says, "Excuse me, sir, but do you know you have a ship's wheel down the front of your pants?"

And the pirate says...

"Aaargh, it's driving me nuts!!"

And to give you a glimpse into my sense of humor and the ease of entertaining me, Click Here.

Thursday, March 10, 2005

What have they done with Stephanie?

Oh oh oh oh.

The PMS demons have stolen the real Stephanie and locked her up somewhere. She has been replaced by dangerous, extremely toxic, highly irritable and physically exhausted PMS Stephanie...who is drowning her sorrows in a lovely Shiraz.

The real Stephanie (wherever they have her hidden) is happy with the Idol results show because the American Public said bye bye to Krusty Bang and Horse Teeth...for good! She's not sure Constantine deserves to stay. She respects what he's trying to do but he really isn't all that...anything.

So, PMS Stephanie will most likely pick a fight with her boyfriend at some point in the evening ( process...) and go to bed after crying over The OC and some stupid, sappy plot line they have going on.

PMS Stephanie hopes the demons will bring back the real woman soon...

Wednesday, March 09, 2005

What's in a song?

As predicted, all the people that I work with suck. Except Lisa...she brought me coffee.

I think today is going to be ass slow, so I will make sure I add another Employee Profile, which I haven't down in quite some time. I think this blog has morphed into me just bitching about things in general while showcasing my incredibly intelligent wit. No one cares except for me and that's just fucking fine.

In the mean time...The Idol was semi-disappointing last night. There were so many ups and downs and so much eye rolling by yours truly that I most likely incurred some brain damage. Was it worth it?? YES. Of course. Big Duh.

Please note: I have made some enhancements in this entry that I'm proud of such as hyperlinks...and more hyperlinks. This is a big deal for me on all of them.

Tuesday, March 8 (also happens to be Allie's birthday): The Ladies are up. Whoever gets through during tonight's results show will be in the top 12 with the 6 top guys. Oh the anticipation of it all!!

First up was Amanda
I don't like her. I don't like her big mouth and crinkled smile or horse teeth. I'm not saying she doesn't have a hot bod, because she does BUT she repulses me otherwise. I'm still wretching at the thought of Simon hitting on her on national live television. Ew! Anyway...during her performance, she kept beating on the microphone with her hand and it was totally audible. Real smooth Amanda. And I didn't like her corset. Did we go back in time two hundred years and I missed it? No, that's what I thought. Just checking.

Between performances, Seacrest was in the "red room" (please) with Nadia. I like Nadia, I really do. So I was pretty shocked when she told Seacrest that "God has my back." What?!?! Is he going to step to you, Snoop Dogg? Ugh. Enough. And speaking of God, almost every single contestant in the final 24 says they will thank "God" or "Jesus" if they win. What has God done? Do you have proof? Did he come to your house and play the piano and teach you how to sing?

Next up: Janay
Or as I like to call her "Krusty Bang." Last night, she wasn't necessarily rocking the crusty bang, and she actually looked pretty cute BUT she sucked sooooooooooo bad. I'm no expert by any means but even I could tell that there was not one correct note in her performance. It was hideous. She should have been kicked off last week. Horrid!!

Next: Carrie
Oh Carrie, you are cuter than cute and I really really like you. You're so wholesome and pure...and from Oklahoma!! But what are you wearing? Are those pasties on the outside of your shirt? Isn't your mom watching? Put on a sweater! You did alright...with the singing or whatever.

Then we have the fashion victim of the evening...
She usually looks super cute. There are photos to prove it. I'm not sure I care that her Dad came to visit and brought her matching boots and hat, laiden with rhinestones. They should never have left her hotel room. I was completely distracted by the swinging tassles. I think she did alright.

At this point in the show, that Burger King commercial with that dude from Hootie and the Blowfish and the girls in hotpants and midgets doing flips came on. What IS this? Are they serious? What marketing genius came up with this shit?

Ok, back to the show...
Even after she made that ridiculous comment about God, I still like her. Despite her strange outfit and the weird way she bits her bottom lip when she smiles, she rocked it out and sang one of my favorite songs. I'm really torn here...I hate her but I love her. It's...hard.

She was wearing coolatts (aren't your ankles cold?) and sang Aerosmith (apparently it's 1996). Simon made an awesome comment about her being the "pop star equivalent" of Seacrest and then Seacrest threw water at him. At this point, I realized that these two should just do each other in the butt and get it over with. The sexual tension is killing me!

I'm getting tired.

She has boobs!
I voted for her and only because she offended me the least of all the ladies tonight.

I lost my steam...

Tuesday, March 08, 2005

Do you love it?? (That's TWO question marks, people)

I've changed the look of my blog again...I know. The previous format was really bothering me with its off-center text blocks and large spaces between words. I'm neurotic and anal so this suites me a little better. Much more organized. Good stuff.

I have to say I'm uninspired today. It's raining here in good old "It's snows about every four days and people are depressed out of their minds for lack of sunshine" New England. It will turn to snow shortly, I'm sure. Then, tomorrow morning, I'll walk across the street and get here right at 9 (I'm so punctual) while everyone else rolls in around 9:30, 9:45, claiming that the weather is just AWFUL and that the commute "killed them." I haven't always walked to work. I understand a commute. I understand a commute in bad weather, driving from the middle of nowhere into civilization even better. Shut up. I don't want to hear about it. I hate all of you.

In other news, I only half watched the Idol last night. I don't know...I had a long day due to the fact that I was stranded in Connecticut, watching movies and cuddling while the radiator in my little sexpot was yanked and replaced. I was just upset because I really wanted to come into work and stare at my computer while being constantly reminded that my job neither challenges or stimulates me in anyway whatsoever. From what I saw, the boys were good...I voted for Mario and a Bobby Brown song was butchered by Travis and his patterened dance moves. I think Scott and Travis are going home tonight...and I'm not that broken up about it. I'll take good notes for the girls and have a full report tomorrow...I promise. Suzie might be the only one who cares, but that's one more person than before. Yes! I'm famous!

Friday, March 04, 2005

Jesus and Me

I'm not a religious person. I know very little about Jesus or God or the Holy Ghost(s) or whatever. Sure, I went to Sunday School and had First Communion (oh, the horrors of a white dress) but I remember none of it. Not one. little. thing.

So when I was talking to a friend the other day on the phone and he quoted "The Bible," I didn't quite know what to do. That's great that he likes the browse the Bible for some light reading, but I don't walk around quoting Jon Irving. Maybe it's me being insecure (odds are...), but I don't like when people quote things because I don't know for an absolute fact that it is, word for word, correct. I need to know these things. Because I'm neurotic. And I'm ok with that.

For example...what if I was talking to you and I was like "Oh yeah. If you have a keg at that party tonight, it will be just like when Jesus said: 'Split a piece of wood, and I am there.' Totally."

Do you buy that?

I didn't say I had a point.

Thursday, March 03, 2005


It's a good song, if you know it. Mandy Moore's cover (yes, admittedly) is decent.

Let's just say it's pushing 2pm and I haven't even thought about eating lunch yet...which is VERY rare for me. This girl likes to eat.

To say I'm a chronic worrier is an understatement. I worry about anything that I could in the tiny sphere that is my universe. Money? Check. Family? Check. Friends? Check. Weight, guilt, weather, my car...the list goes on. It's gotten better recently, for sure, but every once in a while, she rears her ugly head.

There's only one thing on my mind, and it's not Idol.

Look at me!

Wednesday, March 02, 2005

This rules

Don't click on this in mixed in your workplace. Unless you work in a casual environment (read: with a bunch of lazy asses) or in the basement of a large computer company (read: there is no chance in hell that your boss will be standing over your shoulder).

This is one of the funniest things I have ever seen.

I, for one, cannot tell you where the ball is.

Down...but not out!

So Allie is going to be visiting from California in a month. I'm so excited as I miss her so! This is a piece of good news that was most welcome yesterday, as I was not in the best form. There is no need to relive it, so I'll just leave it at that. Let's just say that I watched Seabiscuit in order to take my mind off things. I still can't believe it was nominated for Best Picture last year. Maybe the book is better.

SO...I'm a little behind on my Idol update. Let me begin there.

Monday, February 28: THE GUYS

Mario: I have no idea what song you sang, but I really do adore you. If anyone else were to wear a white hat with matching jacket, I'm sure I would protest but not you, my love. (Stay tuned for fictional dialogue between myself and Mario, my fake boyfriend)

Anwar: I'm not sure about the faux fatigue jacket. He rocked the yellow leather jacket much harder last week. And the song was lame. I'm so so sorry.

Joe: Joe reminds me of every frat boy I've ever had the misfortune of coming into contact with. Against my better judgment, I thought he did a nice job tonight. Simon did call him a cabaret singer but I think this insult is getting old/repetitive.

David: Something about him is creepy and I hope he gets voted off soon. His clothes are always too big like he wants to hide the heat he's packing (turtleneck?!?!) and his hairline gives me the heebie jeebies, big time.

Constantine: He belted out one of my favorite rock songs and did it with little abandon. I admire that but I'm still on the fence. Oh, and to my cousin...I think "dangerous" was poking fun at himself...if you can see the irony...

Scott Savol: I'm not sure about a couple of things here: chin strap, sunglasses (again), dog tags, pink shirt...what's going on here? He was more endearing when he looked like a "real" loser.

Travis: If you are going to tuck your beater into your jeans, Travis, please wear a belt. Simon should have made a "cruise ship" comment out of this one. However, he took cheese to the max, which is partially redeeming.

Nikko: Oh Nikko. I want to like you, I really do but you also give me the creeps. I think this time it was the all black suit that didn't fit properly and the song about sexual prowess. One word: Ew.

Anthony: For the record, I love Richard Marx songs. His performance was lame and disappointing and he won't last. When the judges listen to the playback, I think they'll agree.

Bo: I'm usually not into the rocker who flirts with the microphone and has visible pit stains or embroidery on their shirt. But I loved this. I had goosebumps. I'm humbled.

*Conclusion: My cousin and I have very different taste in men.

Tuesday, March 1st: THE LADIES
*Let me preface this by saying it was an overall disappointment and I wasn't in the best mood. OH...and I was partially sedated.

Aloha: Her comment about chicken before her performance was awesome. This was the first butchered Alicia Keyes song of the evening. Aloha, I love your quirky pink shift but this was not your best turn out.

Lindsay: Totally forgettable.

Jessica: If I could, I would have voted for this little number. Her outfit was so very hot, although it would have looked like crap on me. She's super cute and has quite the set of pipes. Apparently, I can't call the Idol hotline from my cell phone so crew them. I'll use mind control.

Mikala: I'm surprised...pleasantly so. I may have been a little harsh last week. Good show.

Celena: Second totally forgettable performance of the evening. But she was wearing earrings that resemble a beaded curtain so she had some of my attention.

Nadia: She's cute. She can't sing as well as the others, though.

Amanda: She looked good....but Turn the Beat Around? You could have done better, miss.

Janay: Horrible all the way around. Blue Cantrel song. Poor thing. Her bangs...her shirt...her stache. You poor, poor girl.

Carrie: Although I don't agree with one-toned demin outfits, she's really cute and I really like her.

Vonzel...Allie called and I missed it. I'm sure it wasn't a terrible loss.

Tonight...Four more people go home!! THE DRAMA...THE HEARTACHE.

Two words: Bring it.