Marky Mark
















Jason Wiles













Eddie Cibrian


















James Marsters








Jake Gylenhaal

Billy Idol






Jacob Young


















Jacob Hoggard

















Christopher Meloni















John Stamos





































Jon Bon Jovi





David Boreanaz











Anothony Kiedis

Can You Feel It Baby?

My list of crushes is only going to contain those of celebrity status and not the real life losers I have encountered. But maybe someday, when I am feeling confident I will post the humiliating real life crushes that have ended oh so badly.

So here they are in alphabetical order.

A is for Anthony Kiedis. Sure you can't touch him...AT ALL. But he's a fascinating character. I mean I have read his book, I know where he's been and yet I still love him. I think he could talk his way into anything. Which I probably why many people say that if given the chance I would not be allowed to meet him. But check out his devilish grin.

B is For Billy Idol. The world's hottest old man, who I almost touched. Oooh that would have been exciting. Sure I would have needed medical attention afterwards because he contains more diseases than...(insert something intelligent here).

C is for Christopher Meloni. He's Detective Stabler on Law and Order. He's mostly a good cop with this emotional train wreck of his life. But I still love him. He played a gay man on Oz. But that doesn't matter. I got to see his bum.

D is for David Boreanaz. He's the vampire with a soul. His character was so tortured between right and wrong. He was probably my first real crush next to Jordan from New Kids on the Block when I was two years old. Now he's all dark and mysterious and unfortunately married.

E is for Eddie Cibrian. The smokin' hot firefighter from Third Watch. Third Watch was full of eye candy. And unfortunately it's only on in reruns but still worth watching.

Let's jump to the letter J. And hold on because there are A LOT of them.

J is for Jake Gylenhaal. He's such a cutie. And in Jarhead you get to see him wear nothing except a Santa hat.

J is for Jacob Hoggard. This Canadian rocker is quite the card. He has a stage presence like you would not believe. My love for him started a few years ago, watching Canadian Idol with Heidi. I hate that show but for one season...it was my fav. Oh and did I mention I got to touch him and meet the band. Yeah, that footage is on youtube somewhere. Don't look for it. I look like a fool.

J is for Jacob Young. Resident bad boy on All My Children. Need I say more.

J is for James Marsters. The bad vampire turned good. Thanks to that little thing called a soul he went and got for Buffy. Something about proving to Buffy he was worthy of her love. Whatever. He looks like Billy Idol. And he can play the guitar. People in Australia love him and so do I.

J is for Jason Wiles. Hot cop with a bad attitude from the show Third Watch.

J is for Jon Bon Jovi. What can I say I have something for guitar players.

J is for John Stamos. I have nothing to say. I'm too busy looking at him.

M is for Marky Mark. Hence the title "Can You Feel It Baby?" Sure, he tried to rap. He was also a model for Calvin Klein. Now he's an actor. I don't care what he is. Just look at him.

So now that you have survived my list of celebrity crushes...I anticipate the comments. Also Blogger is a huge pain in my ass and won't post photos. I will try again later but this will be the fourth attempt so...damn you blogger. Damn you.

I was sitting in my kitchen tonight eating dinner alone because apparently I am too loud and interrupting the ever important television show Law & Order when I had a flow of thoughts. Which is extremely surprising since I have been up since six am, was at school for six hours and just worked for five and half. I'm tired. I won't lie. I know that I am supposed to be writing my Crush list, researching Red Bull and writing reports. And the list of things I am supposed to be doing I can't be bothered with. Why? Because there are so many other things going on in my head and I can't focus and they all surround school.
I hate my program. I want to drop out but I don't want to be a cashier in a grocery store forever. I don't understand half of the material and I can't do presentations and unfortunately we do a lot of math and a lot of presentations. The two things that I could not do to save my life. I keep telling myself that the more I do this and the more I practice the better I will get but I haven't gotten there yet. I hate it. I hate not being successful, I hate not being the know - it - all. I hate the shitty marks I keep getting and I can continue to ask for help, I can continue to study and go to the library and ask friends for help but it's not making a difference. And I'm frustrated because I don't know what to do with my life or even for the next few years. I don't know where to start and I don't know how to make this end. I'm stuck in the middle and not in the fun way. I have about eight assignments due Monday and I have one of them done. I"m slowly sinking and I hate it but I feel as though there is nothing I can do about it.
So now that I have whined and complained I feel a little better. I promise that tomorrow's entry will be Wacky Wednesday containing my list of crushes possbily including my real life crushes.

Manic Monday

Today is a day full of randomosity. I'm serious, get ready for this y'all. {This is a super long entry.}
I actually went to school today only to find out that my teacher was sick and wouldn't be in at all. Which means we have two work periods...so I stayed for a couple hours did some work and then another class was scheduled for my computer lab so I had to leave and wouldn't be able to get in for at least three hours. And unfortunately that is the only computer lab that has the software that I needed. I printed off all my work, packed up my books and came home. So now I am at home writing to you - my fans.
First off, I have been tagged to blog about my crushes but that's for tomorrow or some other day.

Second, I'm not sure what this is but I like it. Okay I know what it is. It's the Scissor Sisters and quite frankly they are frightening to watch but I like to listen to them. I have been listening to them all weekend. They are disco sounding according to my parents who have suffered through them all weekend. I'm completely addicted to them and I know that they are weird and what not but for some reason I can't turn them off.

Third - Saturday nite my Dad and I met KK at the bus stop so she wouldn't have to walk home alone in the dark. However we got on the topic of how little kids often make up secret languages to communicate with one another. Well my Dad told us about his secret language with his friends. Which he apparently kept until he was about fourteen years old. This was hilarious. And it gets better. He gave us an example. I'm not sure of the exact pronunciation. But here goes. Push De Malaka try saying it like this PUSH - DEE - MA -LA -KAW.
He used to yell Push De and if his friend was around his friend would respond with Malaka. Then to demonstrate on the way home, my Dad started yodelling this phrase "Push De Malaka." Yes. I'm sure the neighbors loved this at 10pm. He told me to keep this a secret and not to tell my mom but I could not hold something this juicy inside. I burst through the front door and told my mom this and she laughed hysterically. So, now we have this running joke in our house. We have decided next time we loose him in the mall or somewhere we are just going to holler "Push De" and wait for him to respond with "Malaka" like a foreign version of Marco Polo.

Fourth - I don't think my Grandma listens to me. She stopped by on the weekend with my baby cousin who looks exactly like J. Exactly. It's a little creepy. But anyways moving on. My Grandma said she wanted to visit with me this week and asked what days I was working. I told her that I was working Tuesday and Thursday. I told her that I have class until four pm on Mondays and Wednesdays. So after I told her this she asked "So is Tuesday a good day to come by?" And once again I explained to her that I had a five and a half hour shift that night. And she said okay then I will see you Tuesday night." And with that she left. Thanks Grandma. I'm so glad you heard a word I said.

Fifth and this is the last thing I promise. It is hilarious. This was sent to me from a classmate and it gave me a good laugh this afternoon.

Guess this speaks to how it pays to be polite (or you never know what can happen!!!
Well.... Here goes:
As I promised my girlfriend, I started anger management classes recently...
The instructor told us that the best way to get a hold of your anger was to do something constructive with your anger and channel it to a project which will bring you satisfaction... so....
I was sitting at my desk when I remembered a phone call I'd forgotten to make. I found the number and dialed it.
A man answered, saying "Hello." I politely said,
"This is John. Could I please speak with Robyn Carter?"
Suddenly a manic voice yelled out in my ear "Get the right f***'in number!" and the phone was slammed down on me.
I couldn't believe that anyone could be so rude.
When I tracked down Robyn's correct number to call her, I found that I had accidentally transposed the last two digits.
After hanging up with her, I decided to call the 'wrong' number again.
When the same guy answered the phone, I yelled "You're an asshole!" and hung up.
I wrote his number down with the word 'asshole' next to it, and put it in my desk drawer.
Every couple of weeks, when I was paying bills or had a really bad day, I'd call him up and yell, "You're an asshole!"
...It always cheered me up.
When Caller ID was introduced, I thought my therapeutic "asshole calling" would have to stop. So, I called his number and said, "Hi, this is James Smith from the Verizon. I'm calling to see if you're familiar with our Caller ID Program?"
He yelled "NO!" and slammed down the phone. I quickly called him back and said, "That's because you're an asshole!".. and hung up.
One day I was at the store, getting ready to pull into a parking spot. Some guy in a black BMW cut me off and pulled into the spot I had patiently waited for. I hit the horn and yelled that I'd been waiting for that spot, but the idiot ignored me.
I noticed a "For Sale" sign in his back window which included his phone number, so I wrote down the number.
A couple of days later, right after calling the first asshole (I had his number on speed dial) I thought that I'd better call the BMW asshole, too. I said, "Is this the man with the black BMW for sale?"
"Yes, it is", he said.
"Can you tell me where I can see it?" I asked.
"Yes, I live at 3412 Taft Street, in Hollywood. It's a yellow house, and the car's parked right out in front."
"What's your name?" I asked. "My name is Don Hansen," he said.
"When's a good time to catch you, Don?"
"I'm home every evening after five."
"Listen, Don, can I tell you something?"
"Yes?"
"Don, you're an asshole!"
Then I hung up, and added his number to my speed dial, too.
Now, when I had a problem, I had two assholes to call. Then I came up with an evil plot.... I called Asshole #1. "Hello."
"You're an asshole!" (But I didn't hang up.)
"Are you still there?" he asked.
"Yeah," I said.
"Stop calling me," he screamed.
"Make me," I said.
"Who are you?" he asked.
"My name is Don Hansen" - I said in a very deep voice.
"Yeah? Where do you live?"
"Asshole, I live at 3412 Taft Street, in Hollywood, what's a pantywaste like you going to do about it?
He said, "I'm coming over right now, Don.
And you had better start saying your prayers."
I said, "Yeah, like I'm really scared, asshole," and hung up.
Then I called Asshole #2.
"Hello?" he said.
"Hello, asshole," I said.
He yelled, "If I ever find out who you are."
"You'll what?" I said! "
I'll kick your ass," he exclaimed.
I answered, "Well, asshole, here's your chance. I'm coming over right now."
Then I hung up and immediately called the police, saying that I lived at 3412 Taft Street, in Hollywood and that I was on my way over there to kill my gay lover.
Then I called news channel 9 about the gang war going down on 3412 Taft Street.
I quickly got into my car and headed over to Taft.
I got there just in time to watch two assholes beating the crap out of each other in front of six cop cars, an overhead police helicopter and a news crew.
NOW I feel much better.... SATISFIED Anger management really works..

Me + Nyquil = Bad Gwen Dreams

So since I have been sick I have been doing lots of sleeping. And I mean lots of sleeping as in 14 hours in one day. Plus I called in sick to work so there's been none of that since Tuesday.
But anyways I will get to my point. Over the last couple days I had bizarre dreams about Gwen Stefani. Specifically me telling her off kinda dreams.

In my dreams I ranted and raved about everything from my previous post on Gwen (sorry the link isn't working but it's in my archives for November 13th). I complained about the whole Harajuku girls, the continual use of the abbreviation of LAMB. And why she is yodelling in her latest song? Which don't tell anyone about this is kinda catchy. Damn you Gwen Stefani! Damn you! Anyways in my dream I went on about why the Harajuku girls are wearing blonde wigs and dressing exactly like her in her latest music vid. I don't get it. I can't understand it and don't think I ever will.

But enough about Gwen. I slept for 14 hours today and feel a little better. Actually alot better. Apparently sleep is the cure all for me.

I didn't go to school because I have just felt that craptastic but I'm returning to work tomorrow and I have Sunday off. I went and picked up my cheque tonite because we don't have direct deposit. Total pain in the ass but I went in, got my cheque and FB was surprisingly, overwhelmingly busy and I laughed. I laughed because I was not scheduled to work and they had all newbies in on the the weekend. Which if you ask me is stupid because 1) even though the last couple fridays have been dead it is still friday. 2) It's less than a month away from Xmas and you put all newbs on cash. And all the managers were in a panic because the lines were outrageously long and all the cashiers were extremely stressed. So in my typical style I did a mad dash through the store grabbed my cheque, wrote down my hours and ran outta that store like a bat outta hell. I did not want to run the risk of being asked to jump on a register. There was no way I was doing that.

After flying outta FB I raced over to the mall, cashed my cheque and promptly spent it. A little on me, a little on Xmas gifts and was outta there ASAP. Wal Mart around this time is somewhat violent being that Wal Mart is just another corporate whore selling cheap items with cheap prices and no customer service. People get extremely greedy about Christmas and I won't lie I love presents. I love the excitement, I love the food. I love the time off school. But I don't think that bowling people over with carts in Wal Mart to get that "perfect" gift is really what Christmas is about. (Unless its the brown PJ's from La Senza that I am dying for. Then I give my mom full permission to knock people over)I really have a strong love - hate relationship with Wal Mart. But we will save that for another time.

So I will be seeing Borat this weekend. I don't care who goes with me. I want to see it that badly. And I plan on going to the mall to get my picture taken with Santa. I don't care how old I am. I want my picture taken with Santa. And there is the possibility that I will post it on blog world.

But that is all for tonite. I am going to go back to flopping on the couch and watching Season Nine of Friends.

xo

Meh - thats the word to describe today

Today I am sick. With an ugly cold. You know the kind that requires snot running down your face, watery eyes and the choking cough.
Yep, that's the one I have. And no amount of tea is making it go away although it does feel nice on your sore throat.
I didn't go to school. I tried not to move too much and my mom feels the same way. Except the only difference between her and me is that I've had about 12 hours of sleep while my mom has had about two.
So much for going to see Borat tonight and getting my picture taken with Santa. I guess it will just have to wait until the weekend. Like everything else. But the good news is that I have the next two Sundays off because I took them off to finish up projects for school and then I will be working full time during Xmas Vacation.
Catch up with you all later.
xo.
P.S. I will tell you later about my dream about telling Gwen Stefani off and coming up with the term Gwenappy.

And I hope to God I figure out what's wrong

Our Lady Peace - 4 am

How can science tell me that someone who has never raised me, who has never been there for me and abandoned me at the age of five is my father.
He's all I think about recently. This weekend was his birthday and I thought about him but it only upset me.
I often wonder if he thinks about me half as often as I think about him. I wonder if he regrets all the birthdays and Christmas' he missed.
I often wonder what he is doing at this exact moment? Does he know how much I used to miss him? Does he know all the nights I cried for him? I often asked myself what I did wrong? What was wrong with me? What pushed him away from me?
Eventually the tears stopped and I stopped wondering. I figured out that him not coming around was nobody's fault except his own. I was seven years old, there is nothing in this world that I could have done wrong.
When I figured out that I did nothing wrong, I had this overwhelming feeling of hate. But then I considered how do you hate someone you don't know? You can't. You can't hate someone you don't know.
You can't really show emotion for someone you don't know. I choose not to know him. Because the version of him that I do know, scares me. He only comes around in December and makes demands. Then he returns again around my birthday. He claims he wants me to visit him and go out with him and be a part of his life. He only gives me birthday/christmas gifts if I visit with him. But that soon fades away until the following December. He says that he is sorry for all the time that he has missed. But I don't believe a word of it. I don't believe the words of someone who comes around twice a year to disrupt my life and make me cry. I think that if he cared, that he loved half as much as he said he does, he wouldn't put me through the emotional roller coaster. I don't really have any memories that are truly good and the stories my mom has told me are her memories not mine.
And the saddest part of all is that I know when he dies and I stand over that casket I will have so many regrets. I will regret not knowing him. I will regret not giving him another chance. I will regret so many things even though I know they weren't my fault. And I know that I will have nothing kind to say about him because I have yet to see the kind part of him.
This is all I have, this song that I heard so many years ago in his van as he picked me up for a hellish weekend at his house. {It's a pretty good description of our relationship.}
My last words to him were about two years ago and they were "I hate you and I don't want you in my life anymore" - I know one day I will never forgive myself for screaming those words through the phone but that day has yet to come.
And in my mind, the person I call father has nothing to do with science. It has to do with the love, support and guidance he has given me. The person I refer to as Dad, has raised me for the last five years, he has seen me graduate, he has been there when I blow out candles, he has been there on Christmas morning when I open my gifts. He has been there, he has loved me, he has accepted me and in the end that's all that matters.

Why my mom says I can't listen to Zepplin

I'm not a huge Led Zepplin fan and I don't even know if I'm spelling their name right but I have to tell you this. I just finished a conversation with my mom as to why I should not listen to that band. Truth be told I really only like the song "Ramble On" Anyways thats what I was listening to when it began the conversation that Zepplin is Pot Smoking music. Here's how the conversation went. . .

Mom: I thought we agreed this was pot smoking music

Me: Yes, but I like this song and we know that I am way too cheap for pot.

Mom: This is true but I don't want to listen to this

Me: Why?

Mom: Because I'm not smoking weed.

Me: laughing uncontrollably

Mom: Well not anymore I mean - I'm not doing drugs anymore. It's not like I did them last week. Besides you know I can't do drugs.

Me: Why not?

Mom: Because they don't do anything for me.

This is the jist of the conversation. My mom is a spaz and we just finished the conversation as to why she can't do drugs.

But please go down and read about Brit and K-Fed.

Oh How I wish to be a CELEB-RIITAAY

Seems that Ms. Spears latest problem is Fed-X's threats of releasing a sex tape between the two of them. He hopes by blackmailing her with this tape he can achieve his true goals which is $30 Million dollars and the custody of their two children. I have some comments for this ...

1. When will celebrities stop making sex tapes? Don't they know that when a scorned lover gets pissed off, they are going to release this hideous monstrosity that is K-Fed and Brit doing the deed. Or do we have to revisit the Paris Hilton Sex Tape fiasco again?

2. Does Kevin know how to count or has he forgotten the two others he abandoned so he could shack up with Britney?

But there is that incriminating evidence
of Britney driving with Sean Preston on her lap.
That might come back to bite her in the ass, yet again.

3. Does Fed X know that black mail is illegal? I guess not. Especially since he can't remember that he has FOUR children. Good luck getting custody of your kids after you black mail their mother and was spotted stealing your meal from a high end restaraunt in LA. (Yes he was spotted stealing his dinner. He and about 12 wannabe rappers went into a restaurant spent $1200 on dinner and while the waitress was putting the meals in to doggy bags as requested by K-Fed he stole the wine and ran out.)

4. Aside from blackmail, stealing meals and trying not to get himself beat up for recording an album he is going after spousal support. You know most people would try and gain some self respect here, you know like get a real job, find an apartment and try to set up a normal life for himself and prove that he can be a decent father. Nope he's still going to try and mooch off Brit. And for the first time I feel sorry for her. Sorry that she was stupid enough to marry this low life and have not one, but two children with him.

I think Brit will get custody for many reasons and in the words that Brit text messaged to K-Fed "I h8 u loser"

Oh, if only I were a celebrity. I would be Brit's friend right now, she really needs someone to say to her..."You're doing the right thing by dumping K-Fed but you're doing the wrong thing by going around with your hair in that bob you call a haircut."

Abba - Mamma Mia (1975)

I know this is rather random...
But for Interpersonal and Group Dynamics we are the review team this week. So basically, we have to find a creative way to review the material from the text book and share it with the class. And each week IGD has a theme created by the Executive Team. The Executive team is the group who starts the class, ends the class, provides and agenda for the day's class as well as thanks the students for participating. It's a whole lotta work for an elective course. So now you're wondering what ABBA has to do with this ...well I'm getting there. The Executive Team decided that the theme would be Broadway Musicals because it ties into the chapter we are studying. (The chapter we are studying is about Cohesion and working together to create something unique.) So since we are the review team we wrote a song using the Key Terms from the chapter and it is to the song Mama Mia by ABBA. Today was our first rehearsal for the song. So since ABBA is stuck in my head, it should be stuck in your head as well. SO ENJOY!!

P.S. I finally figured out links.

Oh Gwen! When are you going back to your band?

There are many reasons why I hate Gwen Stefani... too many to count.
And it's a shame. It really is because when she was with her band NO DOUBT she rocked.
She was a cool chick but now she is Gwen Stefani, creator of crap.
And that crap includes her fashion line LAMB which stands for get this....Love, Angel, Music, Baby...oh if she were a rich girl. Her crap also includes her solo debut album titled Love, Angel, Music, Baby. More of her crap includes Harajuku girls which are girls that follow her around and are not allowed to speak to the public because and I quote from an interview I say on TV...."Oh you can't talk to them, don't ask them anything." Yes, this was her response when an interviewer asked her about her posse known as the HARAJUKU GIRLS. Her lack of use of a thesaurus and her unique fashion sense make her an easy target for my criticism.
Now to make fun of her lyrical genius...oh which song to choose first, there are so many. Let's go in order of her releasing them.

1. What are you waiting for?
"Look at your watch now You're still a super hot female You got your million-dollar contract And they're all waiting for your hot track" and my fav line..."I can't wait to go back and do Japan Get me lots of brand new fans Osaka, Tokyo You Harajuku girls Damn, you've got some wicked style" - Well I guess we now know where she got her posse and why...

2. Rich Girl
Stole some lines from Fiddler on the Roof... need I say more

3. Holla Back Girl
"I heard that you were talking shit And you didn't think that I would hear it People hear you talking like that, getting everybody fired up So I'm ready to attack, gonna lead the pack Gonna get a touchdown, gonna take you out That's right, put your pom-poms down, getting everybody fired up A few times I've been around that track So it's not just goin' to happen like that Because I ain't no hollaback girl I ain't no hollaback girl" Gwen this song is shit.

4. Cool
Okay, I like this song and it's decent - no need to pick on it.

5. Luxurious
This is Latino inspired...I think. That's as far as I can tell and in the video she holds up her Addida flip flop to the camera...What is that product placement?

6. Crash
This song is so bad that it leaves me speechless. There is absolutely nothing I can say. This song is like a car crash and unfortunately I have seen the video for it. Here's a taste of this crap she calls a song -"Drive back baby to me, fast in your car I'm here waiting, crash into me real hard."

7. Wind it up
This song I stole off the internet. Because I heard part of it on the radio and could not belive my ears. It contains yodelling. Apparently she samples it from the Sound of Music. I have never seen this movie all the way through but I would like to know when Gwen is going to come up with something of her own. She really needs to stop stealing other people's music. (And don't tell me to take my own advice.)

Okay, what next a full description of the Harajuku girls or her lack of fashion sense including her fashion line.

I pick Harajuku girls for $500, Alex.
First of all are you so insecure of yourself that you must hire a posse to follow you around? Second, why aren't they allowed to speak? They are people. Not your minions. You tool. Thirdly, why do you need them, do you really think that this is a positive image you should be sending to the youth? Also, why did you name each one and why did you choose the same name as your album and clothing line. Who can take anybody seriously with the names Love, Angel, Music or
Baby? I can't talk about this anymore. It is way too stupid.

Last but certainly not least... her fashion line or should I say, "Fabric that got stuck in the sewing machine stuck together and I call it a shirt line"Once again, she has used the brilliant name LAMB which is the abbreviation for ...don't make me go there again. I did some research into her clothing line. Okay, I looked at the attrocities she calls clothes. If you go to www.kitson.com (P.S. Anthony Kiedis shops at Kitson in LA) they sell her clothes there including her latest fashion line entitled Harajuku Lovers.

I am not a Harajuku, LAMB lover and I am no longer a Gwen lover. I will never be a Gwen lover ever again. I have no respect for someone who hires four Japanese women to follow her around and not speak. I will not respect someone who flat out says "Yeah I go to Japan but only to get more fans" and I will never purchase her album but I will steal it off the internet. Oh Gwen, if only you had stayed with your band - they were cool. And you have this whole fan base.

P.S. Once again Blogger has ruined my attempts to make a decent post and won't let me upload photos. I will try again later.

Well, this is uh...interesting?

I don't know if anybody watches Wife Swap or Trading Spouses, but in this house certain members do and the rest of us just kinda get sucked in to watching it as well. Well on Wife Swap about a month ago, they featured a family of pirates. Yes, you heard me...pirates. And I must admit, it was hilarious. To watch a family dressed in pirate fashion and call each other names such as Captain and Wench. There's nothing classier. And they had swords and their house was a mess to say the least. . .
So today, I was researching the shows, okay...well I wanted to check out the legalities and such but couldn't find anything. The networks are really keeping their dirty laundry a secret. I couldn't find much except for the pirate family's website and some footage of Mad Sally on youtube.
So if you really want to get some pirattitude check out their website.

www.talklikeapirate.com

or go to youtube.com and search for Mad Sally/Talk like a pirate.

It really is different.

Some Days

Some days I love my job. Other days I hate it. Today I am undecided.
I don't want to be a lifer at my job because lets face it, it's a minimum wage, hell hole with a few perks. Those perks would be the people I work with, I absolutely love them. I really do and my managers love me...they let me get away with almost anything and I have no idea why. The things I cam get away with no one else can...its great. I get along with all the managers except one and she knows who she is and she knows why.
But anyways, today I was dragging my feet because I didn't want to go into work, I didn't want to deal with people, I just couldn't be bothered to do the whole work thing. But I went, I marched through the doors and got ready to wear my green polyester sweater ( I don't care if green is my color, nobody looks good in polyester - cruel and very unusual). Here's the thing, I know once I get to work, that I will have a good time because there is always someone that I get along with.
So I went, slid my badge through the punch clock and got ready to do stuff but to my surprise someone in office trusts me enough to train another cashier. But here's where it gets interesting, she barely speaks English. Fun...I know.
So I introduced myself, asked her what she had already been taught and if she knew her operator number. so, this was going well because she sorta knew what she was doing. And I kept reminding myself of the difficulty I had when I first started. But this girl was soooo slooooowwww. Slower than slow. And she couldn't remember the code for bananas which is the first code they teach you and almost every customer comes through with bananas. So you would think after four hours she would know the code. But nope. So I let it slide because I remember how stressed I was the first few days. Finally the Thursday nite crowd died down and she wanted to know if she could buy food because she was hungry...well the answer would be you have to wait until your break. But this is one more thing she did not understand.
So there we were sitting at our til when a boy came by and started reading magazines. Well this ticked her off....and she told the boy "You can't read that unless you buy it. Are you going to buy it? Do you have money?" The boy just looked at her dumbfounded and startled. And with tears in his eyes he put the magazine back.
I didn't know if I should laugh, cry, tell her that she can't say those things to customers...so I did what I do best...ignore it.
Thankfully, it was time for our break, where she then asked if she could take a magazine up to the break room, read it and put it back. You can guess the answer to that one.
During my break I wanted to avoid her but couldn't because I would have felt guilty about leaving her alone. So I went to the back, talked to my boys in grocery and went upstairs to the room that consists of breaks. Or so its called.
I couldn't wait for her part of the shift to end, because to be honest I don't think she understands what she is doing...at all. And of course they scheduled her for a Saturday...the busiest day of the week. All I have to say is good luck and try not to get fired.
So this was my day at work... but at least I made it there. And I still don't know if I hate or love my job but at least I went and I know for damn sure that I won't be a lifer.

borat movie preview

I want to see this movie...the preview always makes me laugh.
But after you watch this, read the post below about MILFS.

Katie Holmes will never be a MILF

Today, for some unknown reason I was watching an episode of Dawson's Creek. It annoyed me years ago when it came out and it still does today but for some reason I was compelled to watch it. P. S. I lost the remote. So there I was watching Katie Holmes career slowly slide down the toilet when I realised that there is something highly unattractive and awkward about her.
She looks like the girl next door or someone's annoying little sister. Then I found this picture of her trying to look sexy - but it just doesn't happen for her. She comes off looking scary.
You would think that as she got older she would look less like a 12 year old girl but nope. Looks the exact same. Now she's shacked up with Hollywood nut job - Tom Cruise. She also had his baby...even scarier than her trying to look sexy. And yet she still looks like a 12 year old with a little sister and did anybody notice how she looks so similar to Tom Cruise that sometimes I think a) they are the same person b) they are secretly siblings....

Speaking of MILF's here's another one that finally had some sense knocked in to her...you guessed it Brtiney Spears.
Yep that dirtbag on the left, that some refer to as K-Fed, Papa Zao, Mr. Britney Spears has been kicked to the curb.
It's just unfortunate that it took her two years and two kids to realise he was a dirt bag. A greasy one, I might add. For some unknown reason many men consider Britney a MILF but after being with K-Fed, would you still wanna hit that? I think not....
Another MILF that gets on my nerves would be none other than Madge herself. After 20 years she's still the same big skank she was in the late 80's, early 90's. She constantly "re-invents" herself year after year but to me its the same crap just rephrased 38 times or something like that. She has publicly aired where she has been and what she has done and yet she is still considered a MILF. And you know what, I won't lie .... I love 80's Madonna but after a while you just need to give it up and start acting like the soccer mom that you are. Just because you look good for your age does not mean that you should go prancing about the TV screen in leotards...Are you a gymnast? Are you a professional dancer and I don't mean that just because you call yourself one that you are? Has someone classified you(Madonna) as a dancer?


Who do MILF's think they are? really? Hot moms, my ass. But Hot Dads on the other hand....

also blogger = asshat for not letting me put anymore photos in...

Please. Save the Drama for Someone Who Cares. Which is not me.

Friday nite was the first time I had been back to the club since I was uh *escorted* out last month. And this time I went sober, ready to parrtayy in a non drunken way but this being me and my luck being what it is this would not be so. L invited her friends from her old school as well as some that I don't get along with but that was okay, I could play nice for a little while. I know it's hard to believe but I can.
So there we were with her old friends and her new friends and everything was going well but then the drama hit and I can't say that I had nothing to do with it. There is this girl (who brought her semi good looking boyfriend, that was checking me out for the first half of the night and I didn't know that it was her boyfriend) that I absolutely do not get along with but because she is L's friend I was going to play nice and pretend that I like her. So there we were on the dance floor, having a good time, when drama struck the girl I didn't like. And at first I felt bad for her because she was crying and her and her boyfriend were fighting, then I decided "No, I hate her, She's ----- insert some nasty words ----" Then she left and I let a big sigh of relief and said "Thank God" So she left and I thought her boyfriend did too, no my luck would not allow for that.
So there I was ready to shake what my mama gave me, when he returned. But he was not mopey, we were having a good time, dancing to techno and causing psychadellic freakouts ... it was going really well, when he continually became closer and closer to me (I sorta knew this was coming because of the way he had been looking at me all night) and we were dancing together. And I thought "Oh Crap! How do I deal with this?" So I just turned to him with all my finesse and said "I can't do this. I'm sorry" and he just looked at me blankly then uttered the dreaded word "Why?" That's when I knew I had to tell him the truth, that his girlfriend and I hate each other and that we have been waiting for the right time to kick each other's asses. And that whatever was going on between them would probably be solved and if it wasn't I didn't want to be one of the factors for why it wasn't. Truth be told, he was 19, half decent looking, a great dancer and he had a stack of money that would send a golddigger comatose. And I shooed him away. What is wrong with me, you might ask? I'm not sure what is wrong with me, but it's probably a really long list.
So the night went on and I saw rich mystery dancer on my way out and he said nothing and I was okay with that because I had had enough drama for one night. And that excludes the stuff at work as well as the other dramatics that occurred at the club.

Bombed...

Yesterday was D-Day. It was my day to recite the speech I had written about Heidi. I had rewritten it and I loved it. It was fabulous. It was all the things I wanted to say in a more organzied manner. I read that crumpled paper until I memorised the whole thing. I was confident I could do it. I was ready and willing. So when the prof called my name I stood up. I went to the podium. I began my speech. I was doing really well. The prof was enjoying it, then outta nowhere my mind goes blank. I can't remember a damn thing I wrote. Great. People are watching me, I'm stumbling over my words. Think. Think faster. C'mon, you're choking. Crap. I'm slowly sinking. What's a funny Heidi story? Still not coming up with anything. Ok, time to start lying, make some stuff up. Let's finish this. So I rush through the rest. I make something up on the spot and feel like crying. I totally messed this up. I tried to save it but I just couldn't pull it together on time. I gave my toast, slumped back to my seat and waited for the hand on the clock to hit two. I tried to forget what had happened after I wasn't the one who stood up there are cried. I held my own, sort of. I mean at least I finished. Well below the time limit I might add. But hey, speech three is due in two weeks.
At least Halloween was a blast.
I drank Vodka with pirates. [I think my treats may have been quite different from yours.] Took some crazy pictures and went home.
You can see the pictures on Life or Something Like It's blog.
Hope you all enjoyed your nite.