2008: Hello. Hi. Please don't suck like last year.

It has been seven days since my last post. Since then, I have drafted and then adandoned at least half a dozen attempts. I am just that cool.

Right now I am very, very tired. I haven't slept much these past few days. Dyke drama is ridic., especially around the holidays, I'm thinking. Maybe? Yes? Probs def yes.

This video has been my favorite thing this week, and maybe my favorite online video ever. It's less than 30 seconds and I LOLed so hard at this thing that I couldn't breath. There really are no words...



Oh, and then, there's this instant classic that I re-watched maybe four times with Frank after watching it at work with Kaitlyn at least three times.



Priceless.

Well, I kind of feel like I'm recapping stuff from the news right now, but this crap is so awesome, I just have to share it. With this next bit, it's not so bad since the story involves people I actually know like, you know, me and Kaitlyn.

Apparantly Jamie-Lynn Spears is pregnant. I know this, because everyone else on this entire planet knows this, so it's my turn now. That's how these things work. I don't have TV, so i rely on most of my friends to filter through all the info that I might want to know. I sometimes check news sites, but those are just filtered in a different way anyhow. So it doesn't really make a difference anyway.

SO...

She's pregnant. Kaitlyn and I went online to investigate because we were bored at work and there's only so many times you can watch either of the videos from above before they lose their brilliance.

So, we looked up Ms. Spears and the tool that knocked her up.




Kaitlyn and I got a good laugh about the whole thing, especially when we tried imagining what might have transpired between little Jamie-Lynn and her proud mother. It said somewhere that she told her mom via a handwritten note that she handed her. We think it looked a little something like this:




Moving on...

I am currently enjoying a peanut butter & jelly & frito's sandwich on wheat bread. Yum! It is approximately the 7,842nd sandwich I've had like that this week. Clearly, I am on a kick. Jean (this woman I work with) said that my sandwich reminds her of something you'd eat in prison, even though she's never been to prison and never tried the sandwich. It's totally delicious, ps.

So, Christmas is seriously less than a week away and I am totally unprepared. I know I've said that in many years past, but this time I really, really mean it. I haven't even thought about what I'm doing present-wise.

Atcually, that's a bit of an exaggeration. (Shocker!) I thought about what I'll make for presents when I was on my lunch break today while I talked to JP (holla!) on the phone and hunted for an art store.

PS: There are NO art stores in garden city. Probs cause there's just an Arby's. And this office.

So, I totally know what I'm making for everyone. And by everyone, I mean some of my family and a few friends who have already gotten me something. I would prefer to take everyone out to the bar and then buy a round of shots, but not everyone drinks. I mean, why wouldn't you? But whatevs. Moving on...or rather, back.

I plan on getting maybe ONE present done before Christmas cause that's how I roll. I wait until the last second and then take on way more than I can handle, thus leaving me empty-handed when said holiday/birthday/anniversary rolls around.

Basically, I am a total loser when it comes to presents. And ya wanna know why? Because I have mastered the art (and I don't use either of those terms lightly) of doing nothing while still both appearing and feeling incredibly busy. I have no idea how I got so good at it because my parents are the exact opposite. My mother had her PDA implanted into her skull and my father is prone to taking on elaborate tasks like his garden, any meal, decorating for Halloween and baking cookies. They both find ways to finish everything in a resonable amount of time and always, always, always, at the very least, complete their tasks.

Me? I will say something like, "I'll see you in an hour, I'm just gonna take a quick shower." That statement is always met with eye rolling and replies like, "Yeah, okay. I guess I'll see you later tonight? Tomorrow? Maybe? Probably not."

And the thing is, I have no idea why I suck so bad at getting my shit together. I really don't. And I have a sneaky suspision that working on this blog is not helping. Anyway, moving on...

I would now like to write and open letter to 2008, the year of the tiger. Maybe. I'm not sure. I just made that up. I don't do the whole zodiac thing.

Dear 2008,

Hello. Hi. Please don't suck like last year.

Now, I'm not saying that the year was on par with the shit sandwich that Bette endured in season 2, but it was not the greatest.




I started last year still a little cloudy from being worried all the time about my mom. And then I was a chicken shit. And then Eric left and my aunt died. But I got a tattoo that day, so it was interesting, the day of her funeral. That day I gave a reading that I wanted to back out of, but didnt and then cried and cried and cried.




Eric left and i cried some more. I tied up the ends of a ridiculous little non-affair, Jessy moved in. I began loathing the cat more than mustard and FOX News. Frank's whole world fell apart and I tried to be there, but it wasn't always easy. I did it and i'd do it again, but I was oh so very tired.




And so I drank and drank and drank and had classes that I sometimes went to and production meetings that I always attended with at least a near crippling hangover. I watched the L word at the bar and never finished an episode sober. I started smoking a lot more and therefore reading more David Sedaris on the stoop shivering in the cold, more coughing, more drinking.







I went out a lot. Painted a lot. Picked up the guitar. Frank got better. I missed Eric. Jessy and I grew a lot closer. Made a lot of new friends out in bars and clubs. Met a lot of girls. She whispered in my ear and we both embarassed ourselves and I just kept on pretending. There was a ball. Eric came and so did Jarvis.







Winter faded into spring and not much changed. Went to Menjo's more than once, which is way more times than anyone should ever go. Met some more girls. Drank. Smoked. Was late to everything a lot more than usual. Still worried. Still felt heartbroken and foolish. Made some more new friends.







The spring quickly turned to summer and the show was over; no more hungover production meetings, no more Kurtz (thank god), no more Aku (not so great). The summer was fantastic. I kept up with what I was doing. You know the story already: girls, cloves, jack & coke (with a lime), and so on and so forth.




Made a new friend that I quickly severed ties with because it cost me another friend. Still felt the same. Still did the same things. The faces changed, but, really, everything stayed the same.







And then as summer drew to a close I set into motion a series of events that still makes my head spin sometimes. The people and places and things that transpired are much to fresh and private. Suffice as to say, 2007, you sucked a little bit.

I mean, PRIDE was fun and I did enjoy the endless partying, but you also sent me some shit sandwiches.

So, 2008...

Please try and not suck so bad. I would really appreciate it.