Monday, December 24, 2001

Me wishing (typing) you a Merry Christmas.


gah. I'm such a girl.

I don't want to have this damn crush. No I don't. (yes I do.) It makes me feel like I'm fourteen.

And, in telling my mom of the crush, I told her it was just the character I thought was kinda yummy. Now that I look at some pics of him sans wig. Damn.

heh. Oh well. Back to surfing the fansites.


Lots to tell. I should start at the beginning...

Went to airport 3 hours early. Got from car to gate in 20 minutes. Boarded plane. Art pen exploded all over hands. Switched planes. Sleep. Sleep. Sleep. Got off plane. Met mom and Dean. Got luggage. Went home.

Little Man woke me up. Played with Little Man. Realized that luggage was not mine. Made calls. Went to airport. Got correct luggage. Shop. Shop. Shop. Out to dinner with Sarah, Greg and Sarah's dad. Found Sarah's dad in ladies room. Went to LOTR. Hit a truck in the parking lot with the side mirror on mom's van. Watched LOTR. Re-instated childhood crush on Legolas (god I'm such a freak). Went home.

Mexican lunch. Wedding dress idea shopping with Sarah, her mom, my mom, and Summer (bridesmaid). Came home. Moulin Rouge (ack. ack. ack.) Wrap gifts. Sleep.

Made traditional frosted cookies. Went to movie #1 of two-part movie marathon - LOTR again! (crush has now quadrupled). Went to Target to kill time between movies. Made eyes at some saucy young hottie with my step-sister Sara. Flirted from a distance. Went to movie #2 - The Majestic. Recognized my (old) green couch at the end of the movie. Rode home. Dreamed of foxy elves with dreamy eyes.

God, seriously. I KNOW it's wildly lame. I have a fifteen-year-old's crush on a movie star. Actually, a crush on a fictitious character. I've had this crush since I was really young and read the books for the first time. Now the guy's all over all the magazines with screaming fans and such. I can't believe I belong to the screaming, sobbing masses.

But he's really, really delicious. Trust me.


Wednesday, December 19, 2001
I said "thick coughing chest gravy".

I am so, so sorry.

It even grossed me out. Yeah, I'm getting soft.


I'm in a blue funk.

Actually, I'm a liar. I'm in a funk RIGHT NOW, as I sit here on my ass. When I get up and become productive again, I will certainly be fine.

However, tis the season for loneliness and empty fufillment. I dunno. I am just feeling emotionally detached from the world right now, and could use a good hug...

In better news, I dyed my hair again. Doubt you can see it though because we replaced the overhead lighting with a ceiling fan...

(do note the dark rings under my eyes - apparantly I am in the 12 step cold-fighting program. It went from fluish to head cold and now to nasty thick coughing chest gravy. ick. shoot me now.)


Friday, December 14, 2001
"Santa always hooks up with a hot chick. You'll note that no one ever asks him if HE'S been naughty or nice. I'm sure she's over 18, though. Best not to ask too many questions."

Do note that this refers to Bendos. Rob kills me. heh.





(however, I did open my gifts from mom via amazon while taking a break from my finals. two words - kick ass. She got me a lot of art books (on computer animation and drawing) and replaced my Microserfs book that I lent to that one boy... and I got the old Billy Pilgrim CD. If you haven't heard them yet, they aren't with a major label these days, but they are EXCELLENT. Go see them if you live anywhere within a few states of Atlanta, GA. GREAT live show. Also, visit here.

Seriously. You go now.)


Thursday, December 13, 2001
Christmas music.


You know Christmas is around the corner when I had to scrape my windshield this morning IN THE DESERT! before my family back in Wisconsin had to. I'm not talking about any time difference either. It's been freaking cold here.

Oh, and on the daily trek to school, in my channel surfing between annoying radio personalities and Howard Stern (but I repeat myself...) I heard a miscue that made my day all weird. It went like this:

Howard Stern banter.
Station commercial break.
Same Howard Stern banter that played before the commercial break.

I swear to God, I almost had to pull over. I mean, I had only gotten 4 hours sleep, but it threw me off entirely. I recognized it as having heard it before, but doubted myself and thought that I really hadn't heard it the first time.

Yeah, I'm dumb. And I'll be 26 officially in 7 hours and 44 minutes. woo.


Wednesday, December 12, 2001
I just reread my own words and had a long think.

The last words you ever said (wrote) to me. There was an underlying competitiveness. A very subtle way of putting me down, trying to make ME look like the child. I am no longer lonely. I don't want anything like what you wanted to give me.

The wondering shall stop immediately.


Tuesday, December 11, 2001
Sometimes I sit here.

Wondering to myself if this feeling of loneliness is because after a year and a half of knowing you were there, now knowing that you aren't.

Wondering to myself if this feeling of loneliness is my fault because I ended it, or yours for making me feel like I needed to.

Wondering to myself if this feeling of loneliness will ever go away.

Wondering to myself if this feeling of loneliness is just because everyone around me is marrying, birthing, loving, living...

I still haven't forgotten. I still get sad over you sometimes. I still wonder silently how we could talk for 6 hours a night on the phone, and end up like this. Wondering and wanting are not the same.

Still, I wonder.


Monday, December 10, 2001
A few random thoughts:

1. I am STILL sick, or more accurately, sick AGAIN. I was staring in the face of wellness last night, and now... grrr. Sicker than I was Day 1.

2. The cellaphone now works. woo.

3. Billy Zane is too hot for his own good.

4. You can, in fact, blow your nose too hard.

5. They should rename "Ally McBeal" to "That Annoying Co-Worker Who Insists Upon Singing Every Show".

6. This paycheck may actually exist instead of being the squareroot of nothing.

7. I think I am programmed to remember to bring the tp into my bathroom the two seconds after feeling cold porcelain.

7. TheraFlu: does it really make you better or does it just relocate the suffering to nausea and stomach aches?

Ok, now you.


Friday, December 07, 2001
It is THIS cold in this house right now.

I'm trying to do work and the tips of my fingers get numb.

Damn desert! Damn weather!


So apparantly EVERYONE got engaged last night. heh.

Congrats to Jim and Michelle, too! AND - a little one is one the way!

WEEE. Go team!


Thursday, December 06, 2001
Congrats to Sarah and Greg!!


Monday, December 03, 2001
In slightly less than two weeks, I will be 26. I am not certain how I feel about it. When someone else is 26, they are still young adults to me. When I am 26... oh god. It's like this: from 20 to 24, you are in front of the 30 hump. You can see the hump, but it is far enough away that it doesn't effect you, and you still lead your life like an oversized teenager. At 25, you are officially ON the hump, yet still young enough that you feel like you don't have to make too many adult decisions while maintaining both your independence and your responsible nature. Once 26 hits, you are well on your way to 30.

Angie. 30.


30 is not old, either. I have great friends who are 30-somethings, and still are as young as laws will allow. However, the thought of me at 30 is a scary, scary thing. I mean, I remember pre-school. I remember riding my bike to swimming lessons. I remember the crush I had in second grade to a sixth grader named Earl Blontz. Yes, Earl Blontz. (Earl, if you are out there, I thought you were the coolest.) So what is this about me nearing 30? I seriously cannot even fathom being anything older than 25. It's not that I imagined not living past 25 or anything. Please. I was too goody-goody for too long to even sound bad-ass enough to be wild. I had some wild streaks, yes, but all of them ended up with really weird rumors in my family (is she gay? is she on drugs? is she depressed?)...


Anyway, I got side-tracked. I was bitching about nearing 30. I think it's just a denial thing. I think because I am now a manager at the video shack, and STILL a student (again, still... whatever...), I feel somehow behind everyone else my age. Everyone around me has these cushy "careers" and a new house/new car/new income bracket. Me? I have a room in Chez Dad and a car that refuses to live. God, at the rate I'm going, add to that my gaming habit and my collection of Pez dispensers, I am never going to get a date again.


Side note: crickets and nausea beware. My father will STEP on you, not coat you in poison like I did. Trust me, that exoskeleton is a lot louder than you realize. Ick. I hate crunchy bugs.


Saturday, December 01, 2001
So, in keeping with the silliness of today, I want YOU all to do something for ME. (No, I don't mean I want you to bend over so I can kiss your ass. I KNOW that was your first thought...)

I want to know the worst pick-up line you've ever heard. From anyone. Put it in the comments and if I get enough (any), I may just do something with them here once I get some time.


Ok, so the on-again, off-again-ness of Blogback is starting to irk me.


I saw my father quietly cry tonight.

My father is a very respectable, hard-as-nails, no-one-can-fool-him sort of man. He loves us kids dearly, but doesn't soften up to show "weakness" very often at all -I think in my entire life I can count on one hand how many times I've seen him cry...

We were watching a special on a Vietnam vet. He was going to visit the wall and say goodbye to one of his friends who died the night he deserted the military. My father said he couldn't watch it, and went out to smoke a cigar, but then came in and sat through it. As I did dishes behind him, I could see him subtlely wiping his eyes. Later, when I sat down to watch the remainder of the program, I looked at him as we spoke. His eyes were red and teary. His face, emotionless.

Apparantly even the strong have demons.


Ok, still not well, but I couldn't leave you all hanging, could I??

My Thanksgiving Vacation, by Angie Lawrence (short(er) version):

Had cuticle scissors confiscated (I completely forgot that I packed them - damn habitual me)
Talked to a boy from my school, played Risk on a laptop, and saw my department dean all while waiting for my flight.
Flew home to surprise mom.
Nearly left luggage at the airport in my excitement.
Mom cried.
Ate large amounts of turkey.
Shopped, then dropped.
Met Sponge Bob.
Little man's first birthday party.
He wore cake.
We played.
Helped babysit said man.
Saw Monsters Inc.
Played skee-ball.
Won fart whistles for each of my parents and I.
Made fart whistle noises to horrify the elderly in bathroom with mom.
Saw Spy Games.
Ate sushi.
Became violently ill.
Swore off the sushi from that particular restaurant.
Packed up.
Flew home.

God, that was a great vacation. The Little Man (Jakob) is seriously the coolest person I think I have ever met. He is smart, funny, and just like my sister. That is the one thing I may never forgive myself for: I live too far away to know him like I should.