Oooo.

You're Frylock! The brains of the operation, you
like to use your smarts for fighting crime and
solving problems. Often, you wonder why people
are such idiots.


Aqua Teen Hunger Force - which character are you?
brought to you by Quizilla

My Brain Is Cooking In My Head

I think I've had too much caffeine. I'm all feverish and my thoughts are fuzzy. I've had an ice pack on my forehead for the last few minutes and it's helping but I still have that heavy-headed, almost drowsy feeling. I'm drinking miso soup and lots of water in the hope that whatever is messing with my head will get flushed out or at least dull. I could lay down and go to sleep right this second. Just close my eyes and be out by the count of five. Guh.

This party doesn't sound all that enticing anymore... If I make a brief appearance and then quietly escape, don't be surprised.

No Rest For The Wicked

I've got a dinner thing tonight right after work in Vancouver with family friends and I don't get to go home first to change. Guh. After being out until after 1am last night, I'm already tired and sorta wishing I could just go home and curl up on the couch. I'm hoping a steady diet of peanut m&ms between now and 6pm when I get done with work will keep me going for the rest of the evening. I'd hate to doze off during dinner and end up face down in a plate of spaghetti or something.

So, last night was interesting... I won my pool match (woo!) and then went home to change before heading down the the BR. One of my neighbors wandered out while I was waiting for the bus to go downtown and proceeded to make some comments that made me really uncomfortable. Compliments are one thing but gawking and repeated references to my "really nice boobs" made me want to put on a big hoodie and sweatpants and lock myself in my apartment. The guy is kinda crazy too (insomniac - not good for the ol' brain) so I'm gonna have to watch myself around him from now on. To follow up that bizarro conversation, some crazy crackhead lady on the bus started yelling at me not to touch her ass again (as if...I never touched her in the first place...gross.) and threatened me with her fist like she was going to hit me. I told her I didn't touch her and not to even think about hitting me and she got off the bus at the next stop... Good times.

Anyway, I finally got down to the bar and ended up talking to Matt (Nick's roommate) for most of the night. We've chatted briefly in passing, since we do frequent the same bar and have a bunch of the same friends, but we actually had the "so, what do you do/where do you live/where did you go to school, etc" conversation last night...he sucked me in with a round of Yukon Jack shots (hurts so good and requires a toast to bad ideas) and later offered to drive me home. Nice.

Tomorrow night, there's a party at Luke's. All the cool kids are going...should be a good time.

Can't Sleep, Can't Sleep, Can't Sleep.

I've been awake for the better part of the last hour. I was laying here, staring at the ceiling and trying to remember the dream I was having with no luck, so I finally went out to the bathroom and drank a glass of water. For some reason, the water from the bathroom sink comes out colder than the water from the kitchen sink. Weird. I went to bed earlier than usual, around 11pm, and I'm sure that's why I'm wide awake now. I don't have to get up until 8am...and I could probably do with another couple hours of sleep.

The sun is starting to come up.

Cream Soda

Is there a tastier beverage than cream soda? I think not. Wanna argue about it? No? I didn't think so.

There's Still Room On My Dance Card

I wish there was still such a thing as dance cards. The whole idea is so romantic and polite and...respectful. People tend to make so many assumptions about one and other that the niceties get tossed out the window. Anyway, I'd rather sing than dance, so maybe that's why my dance card has yet to fill up.

It's Not Cool To Be Hot.

Yesterday was the first day in almost a week that I felt ok about being outside. It's been ugly hot lately and I'm so glad it's cooled off a little. I can't wait for fall...sweaters, jackets, scarves, boots...layers weather. When the seasons change, I'll be motivated to get outside more and walk around the city. The only thing the heat motivates me to do is lay around and nap.

That Had To Hurt.

Taryn, Jason and I went to Conan's last night to see our friend Dan's band, Contusion, play their first show. It was... interesting. Apparently, I make some pretty funny faces when I don't quite know what to make of a band I've never seen before. We all had scratchy throats by the time we headed out (just watching/listening to the screaming bands made our throats hurt) and we all were ready to go much earlier than we actually left. The two things that got me were: the video footage from the last band (Kettle Cadaver)'s dvd - I just don't need to see anyone hammering a nail through their scrotum or stapling into the sensitive skin on the inside of their bicep - and the singer from the first band (Bung)'s gut thrashing around the stage like it had a life of it's own. Keep your nuts in your pants and your shirt on, dudes. Afterwards, we headed down to the BR for a bit and each only sang one song before Taryn and I went home. Today, I'm wishing we'd gone to the bowling alley in Hillsboro to see Eric's band instead. Lame.

Why Is It Always The Girls?

About a week ago, a friend of a friend (both female) asked our mutual friend to give me her number....because she thinks I'm hot and wants to make out with me. Ha. Anyway, she made our friend conduct the whole transaction and other than the initial hellos when we met, she didn't say a word to me the whole night. Now, in the hetero-world, if a dude wants me to call him or I want him to call me, we make damn sure that we've spent a good portion of the evening trying to get to know the person we want to hang out with later. I can't remember the last time I asked someone seriously to tell someone else I like them (I joke about it all the time though because acting like you're in elementary school is fun). Come to find out, she's only 21. Things are starting to make more sense.

Anyway, I obviously didn't call her. First and foremost, I don't want to lead her on. Second, I don't just randomly call people I don't know. So, when she showed up at the bar last night, apologizing for being drunk and shy last time, I wasn't sure what to say. She was there to celebrate her cousin's 21st birthday and hang out with our mutual friend... but after I finished with pool and sat down with my friends, I saw her asking our friend where I was and she made a point of talking to me again before they left, saying we should hang out some time when she gets back from Ashland and get coffee or something..."just as friends or whatever." Oi.

The best part about the whole dilemma is that my guy friends think we should make out... apparently, "that would be hot."

Compare And Contrast

After watching Less Than Zero last night, I realize how much better my life is than those messed up kids from LA in the 80's. Ok, so I'm not a model and I don't have easy access to cocaine. No, I don't have a cool red convertible or go to swanky parties. I've never slept with Andrew McCarthy or Robert Downey Jr. (cracked out or otherwise) and I don't have a loft in Beverly Hills. I've never shagged my best friend by the pool while our parents were right inside having a Christmas party and I've never spent two days detoxing from drugs while my friends took care of me... geez. How boring am I? I never get to do anything fun.

Cherry Crunch And Movie Night

This day was mentally exhausting. So to make things better, I'm going to lay in bed and eat some of the cherry crunch my mom brought me over the weekend and watch movies until I fall asleep. Remember Morgan Stewart's Coming Home? Well, I'm watching it. Love that Jon Cryer. Remember The Secret Of My Success? Yeah, I'm watching that too. And maybe I'll stay awake long enough for Less Than Zero. Things always seem better after I watch 80's movies.

Drunk Dialing Is Fun For Everyone

Last night cracked me up.  I'm ridiculous when I've had more than my share to drink and any shyness I have about talking to men goes right out the window.  I actually said some funny stuff on the phone and thankfully I was talking to someone who could care less today.  Hooray for alcohol!

 

Running Up That Hill

In the first few years of high school, the people I used to hang out with were somehow tapped into the newest of the new music imports.  All of the 80's euro-pop I love today I heard first while at parties or in cars or in the green room of the school theater getting ready for a show or on walkmans at lunch.  I remember the first time I heard Kate Bush - helping a girl with her costume on the opening night of Aristophanes' The Birds - and I paused to listen because I immediately loved it.  Her voice was amazing and I was already addicted to synthesized music from watching MTV.  We listened to that same mixed tape every night before the show during that run and I never got sick of it.
 
There was a time when my voice was quite a bit higher and my range was quite a bit broader, but in my old age I've lost both and tend to avoid singing anything that's too challenging.  Two nights ago however, I wrote down "Running Up That Hill" on a slip at the bar and then talked myself out of it two seconds later.  Shauna said I should do it and then Brad said something along the lines of, "Are you gonna sing or just sit there all night?" so I said screw it and figured since the bar was mostly dead, it wouldn't really matter if I sucked....which I was convinced would be the case since there's no way in hell I could do that song justice and had previously avoided it for that exact reason. 
 
Anytime I sing a song that I love for the first time, I get shaky.  Not physically shaky but vocally.  My throat goes all wonky and I really have to struggle to keep it in key.  And when I'm done, I have no idea how it actually sounded...I just assume it was bad.  Tuesday night, Shauna said it was actually good and she must have really thought so because she put it in for me again last night.  Crazy.  She also called me on not challenging myself and said I should sing more "girl songs." (I end up singing songs originally done by men more often than not because I'm well aware of how much lower my voice is now than it used to be...and because I'm a wuss.)  We'll see what happens. 
 
I think I'm done being neurotic for this week.  Next week is fair game for ridiculousness but for the next few days, I'm gonna just be happy fun time girl.
 

Sadly, I'm No Isabelle.

It's Wednesday. Come to the Boiler Room tonight. Buy me drinks. Sing me songs. Tell me I'm amazing and wonderful and that anyone who doesn't think so is stupid. And if he shows up, kick him in the shins.

The Waiting Game

This is what goes through my mind after three days of silence from someone I'm interested in:

Huh. Nothing. Maybe he lost his phone. Or maybe something happened to him. Or maybe he hates me. Huh. I'm sure everything is fine and he just lost the phone. That's gotta be it. I haven't done anything so he can't hate me. And I'm sure he's fine. He's fine, right? God, I hope he's ok. Whatever, I'm just being paranoid. Everything is fine and he'll call. We had a great time last week and I'm sure he'll call. I still have the sweatshirt he lent me so he has to call at some point to get it back. Unless he hates me. In which case, a sweatshirt is a small price to pay for not having to talk to me again. Hell, maybe he was abducted by aliens. That makes as much sense as hating me. Ok, get it together. He doesn't hate me. He's just busy or his phone is lost or dead or something silly like that. I'm sure that's it. Ok. Breathe.

Blah.

The weekend was mildly depressing. When there's something on my mind, no matter what else I end up doing with other people or how much fun it is, I can't seem to shake the thoughts tapping at my brain, trying to distract me and pulling my mood down. I spent yesterday unshowered, dressed in the same clothes I'd worn the day before, laying on my bed, watching three movies and napping for a couple hours. That's what happens to me when I'm in a funk. I just stop caring about everything. Got a phone call around 8ish saying I should come down and sing with the girls, so I rolled out of bed, washed my hair, put on clean clothes and headed downtown. It took me awhile to feel like I was actually awake once I got there and I felt tired again by about 11. I slept like dead and today I still feel blah. I hate feeling this way. When I'm like this, if someone were to hug me and tell me everything is going to be ok, I don't think I'd believe them.

Another One Bites The Dust

FYI, if you say you're gonna call, call. The only excuse is dying or near dying. I'm a worrier, so if you don't call, I assume something bad has happened. Because of this whole thing, I had to fire someone else today. It's so hard to find good help these days.

All Good Stuff

Dodgeball was hilarious.
Dinner at India Oven was super tasty.
That Michael character was excellent company.
I didn't have to play pool last night.
I drank way more than any one person should.
I got to see Taryn and Dan for the first time in a week.
I got donuts.
I got up this morning and made it to work on time.
I might be seeing that Michael character again tonight.

Finally.

I'm going to see Dodgeball tonight...with Mike. My stomach hurts.

How Many Pockets Do These Pants Have?

I got a pair of men's cargo pants from the Gap yesterday ($9.99...couldn't say no) and I'm still finding pockets. Do all men's pants have a pocket inside the right pocket...like for a key or change or something? And what's the deal with the snaps on the cuffs? Am I actually supposed to snap them or are those just for flash? I'm confused.

I other news, I've been in a funk for the last week or so and I've decided to blame men. That's the only logical explaination. I'd blame women, but then I'd be taking the blame myself and we can't have that. Actually, the real issues are money and love and my lack of both.

The money issue is definitely my own fault. I've never been good with money and I make more than enough not to have to live on ramen noodles and pb&j. If I weren't nurturing my alcoholic tendencies and didn't go out so much, this wouldn't be an issue anymore. Which brings me to problem #2: love. I want it, I don't have it and I'm a little bitter about it. I'm starting to think it doesn't exist. Dramatic statement, no? Well, it's come to this: I'll believe in it when I see it. Damn, how did I get so jaded?

And The Streak Is Broken...

So, I lost at pool last night. The winning had to end sometime I guess and I didn't really cry over it because of the news about my job yesterday and all the drinks people bought me last night when I showed up at the BR after pool. Ended up staying out until 3am with Taryn and Leeve because "breakfast" at The Roxy sounded too good pass up and we were all just chatting away and cracking each other up. Oddly enough, I'm ready to go out tonight and try singing "Kids in America" again. Logically, I should be exhausted, but I'm rarin' to go and I'm wondering if I should cut back on the caffeine... Wheeeeeeeeeee!!!