Train Wreck

I had a job interview on Friday for a job that I can really picture myself doing and actually liking. I have been obsessively refreshing my Hotmail page in hopes that an email will arrive from the company letting me know THE DEAL.

I spent a whole boatload of money yesterday during a power shopping trip with my sister. Everything I bought, I really needed. But I still spent a whole lot of money that I really don't have.

I had another nightmare last night that my credit card bill was chasing me, but this time, my car (which I still owe $$ on) and my diploma (still not paid for) had joined it.

I didn't sleep well and I had to cancel my hair color appointment again.

All I feel is shame.

the night I witnessed history being made

Loyal readers,
I am completely and utterly smitten with last night's Idol finale. It was a perfect mix of laughing, tears, bad acting, endless self promotion, spoofs, B-list celebrity appearences and glorious, glorious resolution.

Where do I begin? I'll start with things I just wasn't all that crazy about:
1. Carrie's strange curled/crimped/"I slept with my wet hair in a french braid because I'm 12" hair.
2. The simple presence of Scott, Anthony, Nikko and Constantine.
3. Mikala's bazillionth attempt to channel Taylor Dane and failing miserably.
4. Paula's bejeweled dress.
5. Matt Rogers.
6. Babyface.
7. Seacrest.
8. Simon's completely unbuttoned shirt with hairless chest.

Things that were AWESOME:
1. Carrie's oldest and youngest fans. Even though Matt Rogers was present, it was still pretty darn cute.
2. Carrie's dress.
3. Carries performance with Rascal Flatts. And I hate country, people.
4. Jessica Sierra in a half shirt looking FINE!!!
5. Bo and ensemble performance of Sweet Home Alabama.
6. Bo brought to tears after performance of Sweet Home Alabama and blantantly ignoring Seacrest.
7. Awesome, but in a terrible car accident sort of way: The "expose" about Simon having an affair with himself. Not only did it show support for Paula, but it was a direct slam on how lame and gross Corey Clark is and that rules.
8. Randy's white shoes with pink laces. YES!!

There aren't words, folks. Really.

In other news, last night's finale yielded some commercial breaks featuring previews to some summer shows. One such show is called So You Think You Can Dance which reminds me of Dance 360, which is one of the most unabashedly terrible things I have ever seen. Of course you all know that I just adore unabashedly terrible things. July 20th seems a long ways off, though. What to do between now and then? OC reruns? Become obsessed with Hell's Kitchen, even though I have no interest in cooking or any competition that has to do with cooking?

Who am I kidding. Of course I'll watch it.

Because I just realized that I forgot to mention it...Carrie won.

The end draws near

I have to say, once The Idol is over, there will be an empty space in my life. It makes me very, very sad.

How will I spend my summer nights? Drinking beer and eating BBQ? Hmmm...that sounds like a very close second.

Tonight, we finally learn WHO will be the NEXT American Idol. I'm torn about who I want to win the crown.

If Bo wins, it would be so great. A white guy kinda needs to win. But I think it would ruin his career before it even got off the ground.

If Carrie wins, it seems as if everyone wins. Even though I prefer Bo, I hope Carrie takes home the title.

I can't wait for the audience shots of her family crying, of her crying, of former Idols crying, of Paula crying. There will be so much hugging and gratuitous cheek kissing. Ryan will be just beside himself and mention something about how much he loves his job. There will be TWO FULL HOURS of this tonight. I'll hang on every word, every shameless self-promotion. It will be nothing short of magical.

It must be downright hell at the top

The "business" world has to be some strange, parallel universe that can only thrive in a black hole. That is the only way I can think to describe the bizaare and inexplicable things that I witness on a daily basis.

I suppose I have my theories about it. Most of the people who thrive in this world seem to do so by stepping on other people. They think if they can't get ahead on their own merits, they can at least make themselves look better by soiling the reputation of another.

I understand that ethical success may be hard to achieve, but is the negative mark that some make for themselves really worth it?

I try to find comfort in karma. Will these soul sucking assholes eventually get what's coming to them? Can I really have faith in such an obscure and factless concept? I have no choice but to believe. What else can I do?

a very merry un-birthday

It's Monday.

And it's raining AGAIN. I fear it will never stop. It's almost June and we need to turn the heat on again. I'm starting to wonder if the whole the polar-ice-caps-are melting-because-we-aren't-treating-the-earth-right-thing is really true, like the "scientists" insist.

I find myself slipping into an all too familiar Monday haze, where I start to feel sorry for myself and blabber on and on about how hard my life is and how I'm just so bogged down and too young to feel this way and yada yada yada. It's a combination of many things, one of which is the weather and one of which is a seemingly unproductive weekend. I was busy all weekend, but not running errands and getting all of my anal things out of the way like usual. I was with family down on Cape Cod in a virtual hurricane. I did have fun, especially yesterday when I went to the Sox game and then hung out with two of the prettiest (and funniest!) girls in Eastern Massachusetts.

So I'm not sure why I feel so...icky.

I've started to notice all of these things that I never really noticed before, like how annoying certain members of my family are and how my Dad really is grey around the edges. I've become more settled into my personality and I have become a pro at poking fun at myself. I'm much more graceful, much less clumsy and somehow, more patient. But it feels weird, almost like an out of body experience. When did I start noticing all this stuff?

And when on earth did my ass get bigger?

I've been trying so hard lately not to focus on the negative and I think I've been doing a pretty great job. It's always been challenging for me not to fall into the "poor me, I will never be happy" mode. It's not because I'm a miserable person. I'm willing to try to new things, open to change (within reason) and all that. I think I'm having some serious issues with adjustment to being an "adult." And then I wonder if I'm just having a bad day.

I'm allowed to have a bad day.

Or maybe it has something to do with today being my 1/2 birthday. 24 and A HALF. When did I get this old?

I know, waaah waaaah, you're SO old. Well, god dammit, I FEEL old. And then I become bitter because of how old I feel. It's a vicious cycle.

Then I slap myself around and bit, because even I'm tired of my whining, and say "SNAP OUT OF IT" and "DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT."

So in the end, I feel just fine and it's just another gloomy, half birthday Monday morning. I get on with my day and start to feel...hopeful.

Gutter ball

I'm usually not self involved to the point where there are very important/poignant things going on around me and, not only do I not notice or acknowledge them, I just don't care.

Today is an exception to that general rule. My indifference has reached the point of stunning.

I'm in the office, and there is plenty of work to be done. However, I have many blogs to read, some bills to pay and much web surfing to accomplish first. I could care less that deadlines are approaching or that stuff is going down in the Middle East or wherever. Today, it's all about Stephanie.

First off: The season finale of The O.C. was amazing. The show was so/so all season, with the exception of the last couple of episodes. The previews for the finale made me think one thing was going to happen and then something completely different went down. I was expecting the predictable and I got something that made me slack-jawed and a repeat offender of screaming "YEEEEESSSS!" I was expecting one scene with a gun that was actually fired and I got TWO. I have a new appreciation for the people behind this television program. Even if you don't usually watch it, you must tune in this summer for some of the later episodes. There is just the right mix of drama, comedy and self deprecation. I'm in love.

In other news: As if acting and being famous did not already bring in piles of money and one person cannot possibly spend in a life time, movie and television stars are taking to the stage. I had no idea that William Shatner came out with an album. In addition, it seems that the general consesus is that it's actually good. Robert Downey, Jr. has apparently blessed us with a record. Unfortunately all of the pulling on the crack pipe seems to have permanently damaged his hearing. (Side note: Is there actually a Robert Downey, Sr.? If so, who is this man and why have I never heard of him?) Jack Black if of course amazing in Tenancious D but me thinks he was doing this gig before he hit the silver screen. Jennifer Love Hewitt has always made me want to throw up everywhere with her acting, so I'm sure her music would be no acception. She's compared to a "less talented Jessica Simpson," which speaks volumes.

That's it for that. I can't go on.

It's going to rain on and off all weekend, but mostly on Sunday, when I'm supposed to attend a Red Sox game. Sometimes games are more fun in the rain, but still. I don't like being wet when I'm not supposed to be wet. *teehee*

Someone's mind is in the gutter.

Have I mentioned lately that my job makes me want to stab myself in the eye with a Bic medium point?

sleepy sleeperson

I'm very sleepy. It's this weather. The sun comes out for about 5 minutes a day and then it rains and then rains more. It's pretty fucking depressing. Even the chipper, pregnant, always smiling weather lady said it was depressing this morning. How...depressing.

I was thinking more about Britney and how disturbed I was by her show. I know I'm only a year older than she is, but I like to think I would make more educated decisions with the piles of money she has in her possession. I'd like to think I wouldn't utter phrases like "Can you handle my truth?" No. No Britney. I cannot handle it. I don't think you can, either. You have obviously lost several brain cells along the way...somewhere. Maybe it was all that fake smoke during your Onyx Tour, or maybe it's all the Red Bull and nicotine. Did they put you on pain killers for that sham of a knee injury? I'm not a doctor. I don't know.

One good thing has come out of this: seeing Britney without her bra on has reinforced my theory that those bad boys are real. And she looks like shit without makeup on and she's really not all that beautiful, just kind of cute. I'll give her nice teeth. And when she loses her figure, she's just blah. So apparently there is more than one good thing.

I'm serious. What is she doing? Doesn't her mother hire people to talk her out of things like this?

What may be more discouraging is how much thought I have put into it, but I'm blaming that on the fact that the train wreck that happened last night is mentioned on every website I've visited today. And work is terribly mind numbing.

Even more discouraging? I just can't get enough.

Hopelessly Devoted

Hi, my name is Stephanie and I'm a Reality TV Junkie.

Like other types of junkies, I try to hide my obsession. I'm so ashamed of it, but it still feels sooooo gooooood. I wanted to come clean today.

I spent two hours last night watching reality TV. I would like one of those hours of my life back.
A few posts ago, I had mentioned that I would be watching Britney and Kevin: Chaotic out of pure curiosity. I am a closet Britney fan, with one CD and a hungry longing for even more of her "wacky" lifestyle. Last night was the "premiere" of the show and it was just downright terrible. What's most shocking is that I was glued to the television for the entire hour.

Not only is almost all of the footage from a poorly managed hand held camera, the likes of which made me almost constantly nauseous, but I would say about a 1/4 of the show was Britney making distorted faces into the camera, including three different occurances of the "pig face."

Is it refreshing that Britney fell in love with K. Fed in about 5 days? Or is it disturbing that she mentioned not once, not twice, but three times during last night's show, that she had had sex three times in one day?

And why does America want to watch this? Reality TV is about drama and fighting and anger and more fighting. I want to see failure and emptiness. As if we don't have enough reasons to hate/secretly love Britney, now we have to misfortune of being jealous of her sex/love life?? Isn't it enough that she already has a billion dollars and seems "fairly" happy and normal? I don't want to hear it, Brit!!

LALALLALALAAA. I DON'T WANT TO HEAR IT!!!!!!!!!

Eh em.

Moving on.

The Idol performances last night were just fantastic. I think everyone did so well and there were no (memorable) Seacrest comments or flappy Abdul claps.

This left part of me feeling empty. What is there to bitch about? Where is the outlet for me to unleash all of my pent up anger, bitterness and sarcastic wit? There was nothing. Just innocent anticipation and grand ideas about who will make the top two.

I think Carrie should go home tonight. I've decided that her face is made of cardboard and she doesn't deserve her own record. I've also decided that, even though I love Vonzell, I really want Bo to win. I want him to win so bad.

Are we only a quarter done here?

I haven't written a bitter, spiteful (don't forget sarcastic!) post about anything lately.

My calculations show that it's about damn time.

About being single:
I have a love-hate relationship with being single. All of the time it's freed up on the weekends has been really nice. I've met a bunch of new and wonderful (seriously) people that I wouldn't have met had I still been attached and had no forseeable social life except for my ex boyfriend's social life. My self worth is really up there. I'm losing weight because I'm on the prowl. But sometimes I just want a (cute, single, non-asshole-ish) boy to snuggle with, who loves my bed head, doesn't snore and will run my errands for me (the mannish ones). Is that SO much to ask?
About living in a bonafide shit hole:
There is no update here. I still hate it and treat it as a necessary evil until I either 1) win the lottery that I never play 2) a very distant and very rich relative dies and leaves me their $1.2 million or 3) actually find a job that pays more than I make here.

Side note: On the news this morning, the women who wrote some book about the "quarter-life crisis" was being interviewed. Is this just a crutch for us 20 somethings (maybe even early 30 somethings) so that we can come to terms with what failures we are? Or is it really, truly harder now than it ever has been? I want a no bullshit answer and I can't seem to find one.

About my thankless, shitty job:
Mondays are always the worst. I'm usually one of three people who actually bother to come in or don't have to be "somewhere else." I live across the street, so my excuses are few and far between. It's just so boring and unexciting. I don't want skydiving included or anything (actually...), but a little something now and then would be nice. I've started to get excited about catching a glimpse of the hot mailman which, when I stop to think about it, is really pathetic. For my job, not for me. Right.

I can't stand the man who "runs" this place. He actually used the phrase "too busy" to describe his mental state over the past couple of weeks. What he forgets is that he does nothing all day except forward me useless information that I immediately delete and stick his nose into things that really don't concern him (which he is presently doing). I have had some fantasies over the last couple of weeks that include pieces of the office fight scene from Fight Club (only I don't make myself bleed) coupled with images of myself in some sort of heroine costume (and I look HOT), conquering "The Man."

Second side note: I forgot to put deodorant on today. Although I could have easily run across the street when I realized I had forgotten, I didn't. Luckily, I'm only starting to notice at 3:41 today. On the other hand, I have no one to impress here and I could care less. They're lucky I'm actually wearing clothes and not just a large sheet.

About everything else:
This weather is terrible for my hair. And my roots look awful. But I need money to fix the roots problem, which I really don't have as I've already explained.

Not to leave this on a positive note to ruin it, but even I get sick of my bad attitude. I know it's pretty entertaining for you guys, but can you imagine if I was really like this all the time?
Woah! What a nut job!

But seriously...I haven't wanted to kill anyone at all today. Really!

Uninspired Monday Morning

It's terribly gloomy outside. This is so typical of New England. We have about three days of nice weather in April and May and then, all of a sudden, it's June and hitting above 90 degrees every day.

That's why I just love it here. If nothing, I have the weather to complain about.

I've already logged in two hours here in the office. I'd say it has been about 10 minutes of actual work while the rest of the time was spent rescheduling doctor's appointments, buying things off of Ebay that I desperately needed (VIPs: Very Important Purchases), and updating myself on my fellow blogger's lives.

Isn't it all just so exciting?

My weekend was actually quite nice. I was very drunk on Friday night and had a fabulous time. My crush was there but I treated him as delicately as I knew how. I think I still managed to shock and/or offend him. I still crush him like I'm 14 and I've decided that, until something more exciting comes along, that's just fine with me.

In other news, I think Cortney is immobile in her bed. We unpacked her room yesterday (my anal retentive/obsessive compulsive skills do occasionally come in handy) and she forgot to lift with her legs. When she left my place last night, I was quite giddy and couldn't help but laugh at her hobbling around. I'm such a terrible person.

But I swear that watching her try to make her way down my stairs, one small step at a time, was quite the hilarious event.

I'm trying so hard to be entertaining here. I'll do some work, have a stronger (ok, existent) sense of accomplishment and then perhaps later, if you are really lucky, I'll be back.

Maybe.

sweet dreams are in no way made of this

I have been violated.

And not in a good way.

Let me explain.

I was sleeping very well last night, which lately is a rare occurence. I was awoken at 3am to the sounds of Christian yelling and yelping about something in broken English. They were muffled screams with a loud "Yoo!" every few minutes. I didn't hear Dennis at all so I wondered who he was talking to.

I couldn't ignore it, so I got out of bed and made my way into the kitchen. I didn't have my glasses on or contacts in, so all I could see were blurry outlines. But I know that Christian is taller than Dennis, so I knew who was who.

I don't like anyone to see me right when I get out of bed, especially in the middle of the night. I'm still all sleepy and out of it, not to mention cranky, and my hair looks like a cross between Jerry Lee Lewis (circa marrying his 14 year old cousin) and the ugly guy from House Party with the flat top.

Dennis DJed last night, so he was completely sober. Christian (who will now on be referred to as DE for Disgusting European) was out of control drunk. I've never seen him this way and I know that he drove himself home this way. And that really pisses me off, even more than I was already for being awoken in the wee hours of the morning.

They are both standing in the kitchen, DE telling Dennis about his night, and Dennis just standing there and nodding his head. Like I said, I could only make out their shapes.

So I head to the bathroom and DE is still raving about his night with his friend Snowflake (oh god I don't even want to know why or how this nickname exists). I come out and head back to my room, pleading to Dennis to shut DE up, but also knowing that this is nearly impossible to do, with any drunk idiot. DE goes to give me a "hug" and I let him, in hopes that he'll shut the hell up. Well, instead of a hug, I get full on gropped.

I'm not talking "he brushed his elbow against my nipple" kind of grope. I'm talking "I was wearing no bra and he full on grabbed my boob AND my ass" kind of grope. I quickly pushed him away while screaming "Do not EVER touch me EVER" and scurried back into my room. If I had been more lucid and not half asleep, I definitely would have kicked him in the balls.

So, I'm dreaming of my sweet, sweet revenge. Any ideas are so very welcome.

Enter dramatic pause HERE

Hello to my loyal and adoring fans,

I'm a very busy person and I don't have much time.

Here, a cliff version of the previous 24 hours.

I went for a walk.
I ate dinner.
I watched some TV and a movie.
American Idol was strange.
Vonzell cried.
I was confused.
I was attracted to Bo in a naughty way that I am ashamed of.
I had lots of recreational fun.
I got up earlier than I had to for a "seminar."
I had a busy afternoon.
I'm sleepy.

And that brings us right up to present.

(loves it)

It must be all that Awesome Juice

I ran across another entertaining tidbit today to share with all (3) of you. I'm having quite the lovely day at work! Isn't that...INSANE?!?!?!?

Yes, it is. I completely agree.

At any rate, check out my new favorite web site.

Slap It

Because I have been more than a productive little worker bee today, I've decided to entertain you all. Unfortunately I cannot take credit for this wonderfullness I received, but you'll enjoy it nonetheless.

Tomorrow is the Official Slap Your Irritating Co-workers Holiday!

Do you have a co-worker who talks nonstop about nothing, working your last nerve with tedious and boring details that you don't give a damn about?

Do you have a co-worker who ALWAYS screws up stuff creating MORE work for you?

Do you have a co-worker who kisses so much booty, you can look in their mouth and see what your boss had for lunch?

Do you have a co-worker who is SOOO obnoxious, when he/she enters a room, everyone else clears it?

Well, on behalf of Ike Turner, I am so very very glad to officially announce tomorrow as SLAP YOUR IRRITATING CO-WORKER DAY!

There are the rules you must follow:
* You can only slap one person per hour - no more.
* You can slap the same person again if they irritate you again in the same day.
* You are allowed to hold someone down as other co-workers take their turns slapping the irritant.
* No weapons are allowed...other than going upside somebody's head with a stapler or a hole-puncher.
* CURSING IS MANDATORY! After you have slapped the recipient, your "assault" must be followed with something like "cause I'm sick of your stupid-a$$ always messing up stuff!"
* If questioned by a supervisor [or police, if the supervisor is the irritant], you are allowed to LIE, LIE, LIE!

Now, study the rules, break out your list of folks that you want to slap the living day lights out of and get to slapping.

DO IT.

HSHT is wearing noisy shoes today and will not stop playing with the change in his pocket. He's getting BITCH SLAPPED.

There sure is some funny looking basil

I love alchohol. I love drinking and drinking and drinking until I'm numb.

Of course, too much of a good thing is...never a good thing.

I've recently started feeling a whole lot better about things in general and the last thing I want to do is fuck that up. But every once in a while, I take liberties. I have to do this while I'm young, you see.

Last night was Cinco de Mayo, as I'm sure you are all aware. I hadn't planned on doing anything, because the OC was on for a full two hours. So really all I had planned on was watching that, in my room, in my bed, period.

I was invited over to Pretty Miss Lisa's place with Sexy Cortney to watch said two hours of unabashedly guilty pleasure. With beer. Lots of beer.

Because my body has all kinds of chemicals running through it already, adding one (or more than one) into the mix almost always results in feeling utterly craptastic the following day.

Today brings no exception. But it's not just because of the beer.

For some reason I thought it would be a great idea to, after the numerous beers, sample some funky junk that I had just gotten my hands on (Christian came through in a pinch with some impressive connections). I had to test it, you see...to make sure it's not poison or bad or any other number of senseless tradegies.

I can safely say that, before last night, I have never been in such a state by myself. I think of it as a "special treat" so I'm usually at a party, surrounded by others, or what have you.

(Side note: The Doll is endlessly shuffling up and down the office today, running into this and that because he never took me up on those walking lessons I offered. It's not improving the headache.)

Needless to say, I found myself alone and high as a kite. On a school night.

For what seemed like hours, I did all of the things I usually do before I hit the sack. I was in the bathroom for what felt like quite some time but was actually about 7 minutes. Then I thought it would be a great idea, since I was home alone, to dance around the apartment in my underwear. Of course I didn't need music because I was singing, very loudly, to myself. After what seemed like another hour (4 minutes), I passed out cold.

About about 3am I woke up, still pretty high, and ate...something. I think.

Now I'm just tired and slowly edging towards cranky. Seven more hours until Doritos, silly movies and sweet sweet basil.

The Latchkey Kid

There really is just so much to write about. For those of you not entirely engulfed in all that is The Idol, you might want to skip this one. OR, because I'm so hilarious and witty, you may want to read on just because of my witty banter. Entirely your choice, but not really.

My friend Kristin shares my (at times) unhealthy obsession with The Idol. Tonight we both wondered why Anthony had a key around his neck, as if it's some sort of fashion statement. I told her I would steal her reasoning: "He's a latchkey...his parents won't be home when gets in tonight."

It's funny. So laugh. Loudly.

Scott, however, is the one to go home. At the beginning of the show, I am SHOCKED that Ryan tells Scott and Anthony to sit on the couch. Thank GOD for Kristin and her reasoning because I would have continued to shriek.

These are the moments when I realize that I am, in fact, completely obsessed with this program.

Knowing the night would only get better with the Prime Time Live expose, I sat back and relaxed. I'm PMSing, so my back is killing me.

Corey Clark says that Paula helped him cheat, slept with him, called him all the time, etc. I don't know if I buy it. But then again, those PTL peeps are so convincing! I mean, his parents are in the mix, he's got phone bills with Paula's number on them, the guy at the Sprint Store is vouching for him...I'm almost convinced. He's going to be on GMA, people!!

Corey loves Paula. He's recording an album written almost entirely about their affair.

This could have been a very short program, with just a recording of Corey going "Yeah...I hit that."

Voting for the worst

I'm watching The Idol.

Duh.

Anthony makes me violently, wickedly ill. Simon has just called him "amatuerish." He defends himself and says he's just "trying to have fun."

Uh, yeah.

More importantly, I heard that there is a website out there encouraging American to "vote for the worst" contestant. The fact that Scott is still in the running is proof that such a thing exists and that people are actually doing it.

Not so unexpectedly, this interests me.

So, I go on that good ole Yahoo! and search it up. I find this: www.votefortheworst.com

The page is down and everything about "the pledge" is down.

I smell scandal.

Speaking of Scott "I'm not leaving until I become a star on broadway" Savol, I can't even look while he performs. It's nothing against fat people, really. I swear. I loved Ruben. Scott is just plain GROSS. Paula just told him he has "moxie." And Simon says...his best performance ever. I'm completely deflated.

I'm actually dreading the rest of the show because they all get to perform twice tonight.

Cross your fingers for me. I'm out of mini milanos.

I once married a pirate named Lou

My cousin Melissa has me pegged.

She sent me a joke today. I edited it a little for effect, but here it is:

A seaman meets a pirate in a bar. The two men take turns boasting of their adventures on the high seas. The seaman notes that the pirate has a peg- leg, hook, and an eyepatch.

He asks, "So, how did you end up with the peg- leg?"

The pirate replies, "Arrr. We were in a storm at sea, and I was swept overboard into a school of sharks. Just as me men were pulling me out a shark bit off me leg."

"Wow!" said the seaman. "What about your hook"?

"Well," replied the pirate, "while me men and I were plundering in the middle east, I was caught stealing from a merchant. I was arrested and me hand was cut clean off."

"Incredible!" remarked the seaman. "How did you get the eyepatch?"

"Arrr, a sea gull dropping fell in me eye," replied the pirate.

"You lost your eye to a sea gull dropping?" the sailor asked incredulously.

"Well you see," said the pirate, "it was me first day with the hook..."

File under: Ambiguous feel good post

So you all know I've been in a bit of a rough patch lately, sprinkled with some high points.

What I find interesting as of late is that support, love, kindness, generosity and friendship are coming from some pleasantly surprising places. You know who you are.

My faith in those who surround me has been renewed to the point where I really am glad that things happened the way that they did. Don't get me wrong, it still hurts like hell. But everyday it gets a little better.

And since I've been through worse, I can safely say that this all will, eventually, lead up to something wonderful.

I can't wait.

And that terrible tight feeling I've had in my chest lately?

Gone.

The Doll is walking around the office.

Well, stumbling actually because he never properly learned how to put one foot in front of the other.

And whistling.

And humming.

And making me want to take my own life.


In other news:
If you want to read an awesome rant, check this out.