Which is where I ate dinner last night, where I read until dawn and then slept until 2 PM, then got up went to see my dad, made kick ass tacos and then retired back to the bed. I would probably have eaten the tacos in bed, but that seems gross and like I'd have to do a lot more laundry.
Let's start at the beginning and work our way forward shall we?
Friday - Happy Hour - Same assholes, same place. I had 1.5 beers in 4 hours and NO SMOKES! Again! Noah and I went out for some drinks on Thursday and I didn't smoke either. I think (I hope) I am doing pretty fucking good at this. After happy hour I went in search of The Sims 3 but since I am unsure that it will work on my laptop I gave up after 2 stores didn't have it in stock. Chipotle and a Simpsons marathon wrapped up the night.
Saturday! Up early and loaded up my laundry to go home - or at least what used to be my home. I got there and Mr. Pants had done the nicest thing he's done in a really long time. I know that is going to seem awful to say considering I have a shitload of jewelry, I got flowers on every flower giving holiday and candy AND a shot glass from every trip he ever went on, but this gesture made me just about weep with pleasure. He made me an Apple Cake. I know you're thinking big fucking deal. But to me it was huge. He hates to bake and hates fatty stuff too. I love both. But I adore apple cake and I can't make a decent one to save my motherfucking life. The cake he made was PHENOMENAL. It had coconut in it and a buttermilk glaze. Sweet Zombie Jesus - it was delicious. I did some wash and we spent the day doing errandy stuff.
Comic book store - Bought a couple new issues of The Stand.
Borders bought:
Stephen King - Before Sunset
Joshilyn Jackson- The Girl who Stopped Swimming
Janelle Brown - All We Ever Wanted Was Everything.
Bed Bath and Beyond- bought new pillows, grill brush & bath mats (which I'm returning)
Lunch at CPK - I had the Pear and Gorgonzola Pizza.
Then we went to The Sale (local flea market type place) where he bought a bunch of crap and I wandered around.
By 5:30 he was off to hang out with friends and I was ready to go home. Got home and changed into pjs and jumped in bed with Duma Key - which I've read before but really enjoyed upon a second read. I stayed up all night reading and texting / talking to friends. By the time I fell asleep morning light was pouring through the windows. I slept till 2 - got up and putzed around. Went over to see my pop - we watched Caddy Shack. Went to Wegmans and spent a ton on food. Came home and made kick ass tacos which ate until I burst and then washed it down with some apple cake and climbed back in bed.
Bought a bunch more stuff from Fredericks of Hollywood I don't need (more heels) and listened to Pandora. Now I am going to read until midnite and then it is lights out.
Life is good - particularly the weekends. Dinana's health is on the good side of things right now and that makes me happy. We'll know for sure this week, but fingers and toes worked for now. We've been thinking about moving... of going somewhere and starting over. I've got to say that kid is doing an awesome job of convincing me we should. Of course she's 10 years my junior and is a tad more optimistic than I am, so perhaps I'll be a bit more cautious. But I am at least open for discussion on it.
Sunday, June 21, 2009
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
Deep as a puddle
I'm tired and I have another UTI. Seriously. What the hell? I ordered some D-mannose so we'll see if that helps. But I am actually debating spending time with a dude named Bucket and letting him stretch my urethra. Yeah. Pain makes us do crazy things.
I seems like lately I have been spending a lot of time talking about Mr. Pants. Not in an "I miss him" way, but in the "we used to be a couple" way. I liked being a couple. I liked feeling like I was part of a team, and now that I've taken off my Team Pants Jersey I feel kind of lost. I miss the secret language of a long term relationship. The nicknames and things that consistently get the other person to laugh. Hell this blog is names after one of those times. I miss making dick and fart jokes and having someone crack up. I miss going to dinner on a Saturday. I miss sitting outside, smoking (oh GOD DO I MISS SMOKING - sorry) and talking. I miss playing Uno or Mancala (the bean game) or Spinners.
My friends will say this means I'm ready to date - to put myself out there - to get back on the horse. I get several emails a day about Match.com or Eharmony. I can't imagine sitting across from someone I don't know at a Red Lobster. Talking about my job, my family, my failed marriage all while I try to decide if his penis should enter my vagina. That seems like a lot of work. And for what? Someone to laugh at my awful jokes? Seems ridiculous
But I am lonely, kids. I won't lie. And I am afraid I'm going to die alone here - and my cat will have to nibble on my toes to sustain herself until someone misses me.
What if no one misses me?
I seems like lately I have been spending a lot of time talking about Mr. Pants. Not in an "I miss him" way, but in the "we used to be a couple" way. I liked being a couple. I liked feeling like I was part of a team, and now that I've taken off my Team Pants Jersey I feel kind of lost. I miss the secret language of a long term relationship. The nicknames and things that consistently get the other person to laugh. Hell this blog is names after one of those times. I miss making dick and fart jokes and having someone crack up. I miss going to dinner on a Saturday. I miss sitting outside, smoking (oh GOD DO I MISS SMOKING - sorry) and talking. I miss playing Uno or Mancala (the bean game) or Spinners.
My friends will say this means I'm ready to date - to put myself out there - to get back on the horse. I get several emails a day about Match.com or Eharmony. I can't imagine sitting across from someone I don't know at a Red Lobster. Talking about my job, my family, my failed marriage all while I try to decide if his penis should enter my vagina. That seems like a lot of work. And for what? Someone to laugh at my awful jokes? Seems ridiculous
But I am lonely, kids. I won't lie. And I am afraid I'm going to die alone here - and my cat will have to nibble on my toes to sustain herself until someone misses me.
What if no one misses me?
Monday, June 15, 2009
Love is Futurama, smarties and Stephen King
My niece is having a bit of a health scare. I don't want to delve into it, because it's her business, but let's keep Dinana in our thoughts, okay?
My weekend sucked donkey dick. Thanks for asking.
Work was also sub par (again).
I'm not smoking. Which has resulted in my eating and eating and eating. Toast and cherries, subway sandwich, chips and cookie, chicken breast, fries, rice pudding and smarties.
Yesterday my brother came up and fixed a bunch of crap here, after he left I got a huge amount of Chinese food and ate until I fell asleep. Woke up and read Duma Key until I fell back to sleep. Then drove to Mon-key's house and read until I felt like it was too late to go home. And of course once I settled into bed I couldn't sleep. Which led to facebook updating and texting with work friends. I fell asleep eventually but woke up a bunch. Tonight I am going to watch Futurama, read Duma Key and eat smarties. Then I'm going to sleep like it's a sport I can medal in.
My weekend sucked donkey dick. Thanks for asking.
Work was also sub par (again).
I'm not smoking. Which has resulted in my eating and eating and eating. Toast and cherries, subway sandwich, chips and cookie, chicken breast, fries, rice pudding and smarties.
Yesterday my brother came up and fixed a bunch of crap here, after he left I got a huge amount of Chinese food and ate until I fell asleep. Woke up and read Duma Key until I fell back to sleep. Then drove to Mon-key's house and read until I felt like it was too late to go home. And of course once I settled into bed I couldn't sleep. Which led to facebook updating and texting with work friends. I fell asleep eventually but woke up a bunch. Tonight I am going to watch Futurama, read Duma Key and eat smarties. Then I'm going to sleep like it's a sport I can medal in.
Tuesday, June 09, 2009
I have seen every episode of Family Guy, yet I can not stop watching it in reruns. I don't even really like this dumb show.
I'm on the couch, under a blanket, reading recipes. I wanted to play some video games, but my head is a busy place today and I'm turning some stuff over rather repeatedly. With no results.
Work today was sub par.
Although I did make an army of gummy bears on my desk at one point. That was the highlight of my day.
I'm on the couch, under a blanket, reading recipes. I wanted to play some video games, but my head is a busy place today and I'm turning some stuff over rather repeatedly. With no results.
Work today was sub par.
Although I did make an army of gummy bears on my desk at one point. That was the highlight of my day.
Monday, June 08, 2009
Not in the game or on the ball
When I was a kid my brothers wanted to teach me how to play sports - any sport would be a common ground. I mostly wanted to wear dresses and have tea parties. We spent a lot of time in the yard me with a bat in my hand and occasional tears running down my cheeks as things like "keep your eye on the ball" and "stand with your feet apart! Not that far! No! Too close!" were shouted at me. Until one day Chip said "Choke up one the bat!" and my little girl brain went "What the fuck?!" and immediately I positioned the bat under my chin and pretended to choke. This got a huge laugh from everyone and even as a child I knew a laugh was golden. Making them laugh would make me not have to practice free throws for hours. Or run. Or swing the dumb bat.
I was reminded of this tonight when we all went out to dinner. I've written about the lack of love in my family. We will never say I love you, but we will rip each other to shreds and cackle through the entire thing. I've often wondered if that has hindered the way I deal with people? I only mock the ones I love, but I do mock them mercilessly. In my family you will be made fun of for being too fat, too thin, too tan, too pale, too smart, too dumb, too eccentric, too conformist, and the list goes on and on and on. It is amazing how quick witted we can be when it is time to make fun of each other. It is obviously something we get from my dad.
Tonight Chip and I went to dinner with my folks. My dad wanted us all to go in one car. I'm not sure when the last time I was in the backseat with one of my brothers was when my dad was driving, but it made for a hysterically funny trip to the Mall. It started with: "He's on my side!" Then morphed into "I'm not touching you!" which quickly became "why are you hitting yourself?". Until my dad said it: "Do NOT make me come back there!" We collapsed in a fit of giggles and then asked "Will you just turn around and take us home?" "You're not just going to start swinging wildly, are you?" Even my mom was laughing. It was a good night.
Today was not a bad day at work. It wasn't great either, but it wasn't bad. My weekend was a good one - I got significantly drunk on Friday with the usual cast of assholes plus a dude named Bucket- who showed me his dick and balls. At different times and not sexually. The word urethrae was used A LOT. Saturday Mr. Pants and I did a million things and I didn't get home here until after 2 AM. Sunday - I overslept. Cleaned a little. Got coffee. Lounged around. Ate some awesome food. Watched Revolutionary Road - which really stuck with me and I enjoyed immensely. Had some Peach Pie (one slice - in case you are keeping count) and went to bed. A lovely day, if I say so myself.
Alright kids, this place smells like cat pee. I gotta scoop and put on my jammies. Catch you on the flip side
I was reminded of this tonight when we all went out to dinner. I've written about the lack of love in my family. We will never say I love you, but we will rip each other to shreds and cackle through the entire thing. I've often wondered if that has hindered the way I deal with people? I only mock the ones I love, but I do mock them mercilessly. In my family you will be made fun of for being too fat, too thin, too tan, too pale, too smart, too dumb, too eccentric, too conformist, and the list goes on and on and on. It is amazing how quick witted we can be when it is time to make fun of each other. It is obviously something we get from my dad.
Tonight Chip and I went to dinner with my folks. My dad wanted us all to go in one car. I'm not sure when the last time I was in the backseat with one of my brothers was when my dad was driving, but it made for a hysterically funny trip to the Mall. It started with: "He's on my side!" Then morphed into "I'm not touching you!" which quickly became "why are you hitting yourself?". Until my dad said it: "Do NOT make me come back there!" We collapsed in a fit of giggles and then asked "Will you just turn around and take us home?" "You're not just going to start swinging wildly, are you?" Even my mom was laughing. It was a good night.
Today was not a bad day at work. It wasn't great either, but it wasn't bad. My weekend was a good one - I got significantly drunk on Friday with the usual cast of assholes plus a dude named Bucket- who showed me his dick and balls. At different times and not sexually. The word urethrae was used A LOT. Saturday Mr. Pants and I did a million things and I didn't get home here until after 2 AM. Sunday - I overslept. Cleaned a little. Got coffee. Lounged around. Ate some awesome food. Watched Revolutionary Road - which really stuck with me and I enjoyed immensely. Had some Peach Pie (one slice - in case you are keeping count) and went to bed. A lovely day, if I say so myself.
Alright kids, this place smells like cat pee. I gotta scoop and put on my jammies. Catch you on the flip side
Thursday, June 04, 2009
This little light of mine - I'm gonna turn it off
The last couple of days have been most displeasing. Between my dad's illness, work sucking a bag of dicks, family stuff, arguments with coworkers and friends alike, I am most unhappy.
In order to cheer myself up I am going to give you a list of my favorite words. I will often be talking to Monkey and one of us will interrupt the other with "That is a great word!" although I will admit that his range of vocabulary is vast compared to mine. Which will often lead to a discussion of what makes a word good or not. Yes, we do have hours and hours of nerdy conversations, thank you. It is deliciously dorky.
So here is a list of words that I adore:
Things are bad here folks, I am not going to lie. I'm scared. And I'm really worried. So if I'm a little difficult or a little brittle (another decent word that sounds like it is) I'm sorry.
In order to cheer myself up I am going to give you a list of my favorite words. I will often be talking to Monkey and one of us will interrupt the other with "That is a great word!" although I will admit that his range of vocabulary is vast compared to mine. Which will often lead to a discussion of what makes a word good or not. Yes, we do have hours and hours of nerdy conversations, thank you. It is deliciously dorky.
So here is a list of words that I adore:
- Phenomenal
- Icky
- Adorable
- Derelict
- Ornate
- Myriad
- Harangue
- ubiquitous
- omnipotent
- melancholy
- disingenuous
- Abrogate
- Oxymoron
- Juxtaposition
- Exacerbate
Things are bad here folks, I am not going to lie. I'm scared. And I'm really worried. So if I'm a little difficult or a little brittle (another decent word that sounds like it is) I'm sorry.
Monday, June 01, 2009
This is going to be a rough one
My good mood carried throughout the day. I made it until 4 before I had any kind of meltdown and as far a Wishy Meltdowns, it was a small one. I drove K back to her car after work and since I was halfway to my parent's house I decided to stop by. My mom was in the hospital last week so I wanted to see how she was doing. My pop was making dinner and I decided to root through the boxes of stuff he was donating to charity. I asked how he was doing.
The problem with his neck that we have been discussing off and on since he fell in March turned out to be a tumor.
And we're back to Radiation and possibly Chemo. Except this time my mom isn't able to take care of herself at all. She can't talk, she can't feed herself or go to the bathroom alone. She can't do anything for herself. My dad is her primary caregiver. The only person she speaks her 5 words a day to. The only one of us that she recognizes. Whose name she knows.
My dad has always been the person that I have turned to for everything. For emotional, moral and monetary support. The 1st person I call when there is a bug in my apartment or my toilet is wobbly. The person I call to discuss the latest political hot topic, the latest crazy news story, the big sports story. My dad is the one person who in my separation told me "Be happy. That's all that matters and you haven't been happy for along time." He's the guy who cares about my happiness. That's amazing to me. I love my Pop. There is no one in this world that means more to me than he does. I'm scared for him. For me.
I know that sounds selfish, but I am a Daddy's girl. Maybe it's being part of a blended family or being the baby by so many years, but I never felt like I fit in with my brothers. I wanted to. I used to crave for us to be close. To laugh and joke and end conversations with "I love you". In my family we never say that. We're mean and cutting and sarcastic. We're loud. And I've always been lil Ri (until I got fat I was Bird). Ri with her tats and drugs and drunk boyfriend. Ri with her aimless life and insistence that she won't have kids. Ri who can't settle down and doesn't know what she wants to do. Ri who will always live life looking for happiness and can't find it. Why can't she just settle down. Stay married. Work her shitty job and be satisfied. This is life, it's not about happiness it's about having a plan. Why can't she just follow the fucking PLAN?! So this is pretty fucking difficult for me. I feel very lonely in the fact that this person who loves me despite what a fucking weirdo I am and who understands my desire to be happy (and understand me) is sick. This person who doesn't question, and who has been not just my parent, but someone I admire, love and whose company I genuinely enjoy, not because he's my Pop, but because he is awesome. Quick witted, sarcastic, full of dry humor, intelligent and caring and has been the best dad I could ever imagine. I wouldn't be the person I am today without my dad. And I fucking like me.
But I hate to admit that I don't trust his judgment right now. My mom is bad. His health is bad. I worry about what will happen not just if my dad dies, but what if he is sick for a long time? When my grandfather died of cancer he was sick for awhile and by sick I mean hospital bed in the living room with morphine and home care. What if my dad is that bad? Who will care for my mom? Who will care for him? Am I strong enough for this? I don't think I am. And he won't plan for the worst - he acts like we're all crazy with our worrying and nonsense. We worry because we care.
And I don't want to lose my dad. Fuck that. I'm 35. And he's only fucking 73. This is bullshit.
The boys and I have some decisions to make. Decisions that my Pop will overthrow and the pussies we are, we'll back right down.
The plus side? The things that seemed important yesterday aren't. Those little crummy bits? Are just sprinkles on the icing of life. The things that aren't happiness but they aren't tumors either, so fuck them - I'll deal with them as they come. I'm thankful that I have brothers - who at times I give a bunch of grief to, but who are fiercely loyal to me & each other and to my dad. I'm thankful I have friends both old and new that I can turn to with this. I'm thankful that I am safe and loved and supported. This is bad, don't get me wrong Internet, I know I'm looking at some scary shit. But there is good in my life too. Lots of it. And my dad would be pleased that I see it that way.
And who knows? This slow moving cancer which has spread over the last 15 years from his prostate to his spine to his ribs to his neck, may take another 15 years to get to his brain or his liver or his lungs. Maybe this it will be vanquished or at least pushed back to sufficiently with the radiation (or yuck! Chemo)that he can go back to living his life and continue to care for the woman he loves fiercely and definitely. Without either of them having to go into a home. I'm optimistic here kids. Try and be there with me.
The problem with his neck that we have been discussing off and on since he fell in March turned out to be a tumor.
And we're back to Radiation and possibly Chemo. Except this time my mom isn't able to take care of herself at all. She can't talk, she can't feed herself or go to the bathroom alone. She can't do anything for herself. My dad is her primary caregiver. The only person she speaks her 5 words a day to. The only one of us that she recognizes. Whose name she knows.
My dad has always been the person that I have turned to for everything. For emotional, moral and monetary support. The 1st person I call when there is a bug in my apartment or my toilet is wobbly. The person I call to discuss the latest political hot topic, the latest crazy news story, the big sports story. My dad is the one person who in my separation told me "Be happy. That's all that matters and you haven't been happy for along time." He's the guy who cares about my happiness. That's amazing to me. I love my Pop. There is no one in this world that means more to me than he does. I'm scared for him. For me.
I know that sounds selfish, but I am a Daddy's girl. Maybe it's being part of a blended family or being the baby by so many years, but I never felt like I fit in with my brothers. I wanted to. I used to crave for us to be close. To laugh and joke and end conversations with "I love you". In my family we never say that. We're mean and cutting and sarcastic. We're loud. And I've always been lil Ri (until I got fat I was Bird). Ri with her tats and drugs and drunk boyfriend. Ri with her aimless life and insistence that she won't have kids. Ri who can't settle down and doesn't know what she wants to do. Ri who will always live life looking for happiness and can't find it. Why can't she just settle down. Stay married. Work her shitty job and be satisfied. This is life, it's not about happiness it's about having a plan. Why can't she just follow the fucking PLAN?! So this is pretty fucking difficult for me. I feel very lonely in the fact that this person who loves me despite what a fucking weirdo I am and who understands my desire to be happy (and understand me) is sick. This person who doesn't question, and who has been not just my parent, but someone I admire, love and whose company I genuinely enjoy, not because he's my Pop, but because he is awesome. Quick witted, sarcastic, full of dry humor, intelligent and caring and has been the best dad I could ever imagine. I wouldn't be the person I am today without my dad. And I fucking like me.
But I hate to admit that I don't trust his judgment right now. My mom is bad. His health is bad. I worry about what will happen not just if my dad dies, but what if he is sick for a long time? When my grandfather died of cancer he was sick for awhile and by sick I mean hospital bed in the living room with morphine and home care. What if my dad is that bad? Who will care for my mom? Who will care for him? Am I strong enough for this? I don't think I am. And he won't plan for the worst - he acts like we're all crazy with our worrying and nonsense. We worry because we care.
And I don't want to lose my dad. Fuck that. I'm 35. And he's only fucking 73. This is bullshit.
The boys and I have some decisions to make. Decisions that my Pop will overthrow and the pussies we are, we'll back right down.
The plus side? The things that seemed important yesterday aren't. Those little crummy bits? Are just sprinkles on the icing of life. The things that aren't happiness but they aren't tumors either, so fuck them - I'll deal with them as they come. I'm thankful that I have brothers - who at times I give a bunch of grief to, but who are fiercely loyal to me & each other and to my dad. I'm thankful I have friends both old and new that I can turn to with this. I'm thankful that I am safe and loved and supported. This is bad, don't get me wrong Internet, I know I'm looking at some scary shit. But there is good in my life too. Lots of it. And my dad would be pleased that I see it that way.
And who knows? This slow moving cancer which has spread over the last 15 years from his prostate to his spine to his ribs to his neck, may take another 15 years to get to his brain or his liver or his lungs. Maybe this it will be vanquished or at least pushed back to sufficiently with the radiation (or yuck! Chemo)that he can go back to living his life and continue to care for the woman he loves fiercely and definitely. Without either of them having to go into a home. I'm optimistic here kids. Try and be there with me.
I can't believe I'm awake and typing either
What the fuck? How can I be awake this early and posting a boring as entry all with a smile on my face? It's a secret Internet. One that I'm not exactly ready to share, but oh, one that makes me very, very happy.
Stop what you're doing. Yes. I know. What I have to say here is thrilling. Oh the antics of a 35 year old separated woman with a cat (yes, I do believe it is law that I have at least 1 cat given my age and martial status) who works at a job she hates is definitely a thrilling read. I mean, what did I have for dinner last night? Did I drink? Will I lament about how I need to find another job ASAP at some point in this entry? Chicken, corn on the cob and potato salad. Friday night - a lot. Still no new prospects. So all the burning questions have been answered (speaking of burning - lady parts are all good so far). Stop reading. Close the browser, push away from your computer. If you are at work (Way to go! I'm pleased I am stopping your from being productive) make up an excuse to leave. Make it good. You are totally going to spend 2 hours watching UP! You must. If you've seen it already, fucking see it again. It's that good. Seriously. I am aware that it is a cartoon, thank you very much. But it so good. So very, very, very good. Go see it. And you will be glad you did. And really? If you are skating out of work to see a movie, even if it is a shitty movie, life is pretty good.
Back? Did you love it?
So on Friday I went to HH. The usual cast of misfits were there. We had a lovely time, bonded heavily... to the point where I agreed to go to Media with J&J one weekend. That is going to SUCK. I think I was over compensating for the fight Girl J and and I had last weekend. I'll have to figure out how to get out of it. Then I left around 9 and went to see UP! With the HS girls. That movie fucked my shit up. I sobbed... the front of my shirt was soaked. I would love to blame it on the amount of booze I consumed and my impending period, but it was just that touching of a tale. In my list of best Pixar movies it moves to #1, Disney movies it moves to #2 and would definitely be in my top 10 films of all time. You have to see this movie.
On Saturday after much wrangling and squabbling the HS girls and I made our way to Ocean City. We ate awesome food, sat on the beach, had some Kohr Brothers, bought Chocolate covered salt water taffy, argued over the merits of anything coconut flavored (I wast the pro side). Listened to hours of Bruce (My car = my music, ladies). It was nice. I am tying to figure out exactly if I should rent for a week by myself in Sea Isle or if I should just do 3 days in a hotel.
Yesterday I vegged out for a majority of the day.
And now I have to go get in the shower. I don't want to. But I'm going to. Because that's the kind of chick I am.
Oh, please let this good mood carry on throughout the day. Please.
Stop what you're doing. Yes. I know. What I have to say here is thrilling. Oh the antics of a 35 year old separated woman with a cat (yes, I do believe it is law that I have at least 1 cat given my age and martial status) who works at a job she hates is definitely a thrilling read. I mean, what did I have for dinner last night? Did I drink? Will I lament about how I need to find another job ASAP at some point in this entry? Chicken, corn on the cob and potato salad. Friday night - a lot. Still no new prospects. So all the burning questions have been answered (speaking of burning - lady parts are all good so far). Stop reading. Close the browser, push away from your computer. If you are at work (Way to go! I'm pleased I am stopping your from being productive) make up an excuse to leave. Make it good. You are totally going to spend 2 hours watching UP! You must. If you've seen it already, fucking see it again. It's that good. Seriously. I am aware that it is a cartoon, thank you very much. But it so good. So very, very, very good. Go see it. And you will be glad you did. And really? If you are skating out of work to see a movie, even if it is a shitty movie, life is pretty good.
Back? Did you love it?
So on Friday I went to HH. The usual cast of misfits were there. We had a lovely time, bonded heavily... to the point where I agreed to go to Media with J&J one weekend. That is going to SUCK. I think I was over compensating for the fight Girl J and and I had last weekend. I'll have to figure out how to get out of it. Then I left around 9 and went to see UP! With the HS girls. That movie fucked my shit up. I sobbed... the front of my shirt was soaked. I would love to blame it on the amount of booze I consumed and my impending period, but it was just that touching of a tale. In my list of best Pixar movies it moves to #1, Disney movies it moves to #2 and would definitely be in my top 10 films of all time. You have to see this movie.
On Saturday after much wrangling and squabbling the HS girls and I made our way to Ocean City. We ate awesome food, sat on the beach, had some Kohr Brothers, bought Chocolate covered salt water taffy, argued over the merits of anything coconut flavored (I wast the pro side). Listened to hours of Bruce (My car = my music, ladies). It was nice. I am tying to figure out exactly if I should rent for a week by myself in Sea Isle or if I should just do 3 days in a hotel.
Yesterday I vegged out for a majority of the day.
And now I have to go get in the shower. I don't want to. But I'm going to. Because that's the kind of chick I am.
Oh, please let this good mood carry on throughout the day. Please.
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