Thursday, April 28, 2005
 
Screw them all

You know what pisses me off?

My neighbors (love them dearly) gave me money to clean their house. I was told I had until July, but I've been going over and doing the laundry and dishes etc in spurts as I have a few minutes here and there.

In the past 4 days, I've gotten at least 2, maybe 3 emails "checking up on me" because apparantly the neighbors on the other side of them keep telling them "well, she didn't take your patio furniture in yet" and "no, the stuff is still outside"... Well, no, I didn't take it in yet because I haven't cleaned the floors yet. It's hard to clean the floors when there is PATIO FURNITURE on it.

And no, I have scheduled time to go over and actually do the whole she-bang the last three days, but it hasn't happened. You know what I've been doing? WORKING MY ASS OFF.

Today, as of right now, I'm almost on hour 10, and that doesn't count the 2 hours I was running errands for work OR the hour total transit time to get to the office and back home today.

Yeah, so totally don't fuck with me. I'm possibly going to have to pull an all-nighter as is. Perhaps I should then go clean!



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Tuesday, April 26, 2005
 
Things: an Update.

This morning my horoscope read:
A friendship could take a very romantic turn today. One minute you two are just buddies checking out the frozen food section and exchanging tips for pea casserole surprise. The next minute the two of you are defrosting the whole darn aisle.
So, who wants to go to the store with me? You may not want to after you learn that apparantly I am batshit crazy. Read on...

-------------

I just woke up a little bit ago from a crazy-long nap. In it, I had a dream that I was doing small home repairs for some famous woman (I just can't remember her name - I've seen her before though) and her husband, the younger brother from Frasier. What started as home repairs turned into dog-sitting, with my dog there too (my dog?) . I told stories of how I used to do the same thing for Bobby and Whitney.

Then, it happened.

On the floor was my dog's foot. The foot, the pads, the claws... It had "fallen off". The couple went to race him to the vet while I put the really warm foot in a ziploc bag so they could re-attach it. Then, while trying to leave, I could not get the car out of the garage (it was parked inside perpendicular to the doors) and their dogs (who were now dobermans) kept getting out.

I soon see the couple pull up with my dog and a turkey baster full of red medicine. Turns out, they couldn't reattach it, and that before I had adopted the dog some 10 months earlier, it had in defiance of its owner chewed its foot MOST of the way off.

The vet suggested I just give the dog a little dog booty and it would be fine.

The End.

Ok, what kind of weird ass dream is that? I mean, I woke up almost in tears because of my "poor 3-legged dog".

Can I get a huge round of WTF?



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Breakfast of Crampians

Last night I decided to make a
dinner-that-was-a-breakfast-but-technically-still-dinner.

It was really, really tasty! Sausage! Eggs!

Apparantly, somewhere around the large intestine, the DTWBBTSD decided that it was neither breakfast NOR dinner but actually ON FIRE and evacuated the building IMMEDIATELY.

Over. and. over. again.

For HOURS.

Pair that with yesterday morning when I reheated my coffee, was on the phone, took a sip and a large gooey grey matter sort of film (apparantly from my coffee) went sliding down the back of my throat. This led to intense gagging, ALL WHILE ON THE PHONE, and me having to put the phone down to run to the kitchen to get something to mask the taste and feeling of what I lovingly now refer to as "My Coffee's Foreskin".

Yeah - yesterday was SO not a good breakfast day.



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Monday, April 25, 2005
 
When I said "musicians", I didn't mean these people

God, this is cracking me up.

Go there now.



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Speaking of crushes

Dude, no.

Things that are NOT attractive to me in/on a man:
  1. Wearing sports jerseys. DOES NOT do it for me.
  2. Love of Nascar
  3. Cowboy hats/boots/belt buckles the size of Alabama
  4. Flashing any sort of gang-related handjive
  5. Unemployment
  6. Lack of motivation
  7. Half-ass moustache (where its like a 5 oclock shadow, but they bothered to shave it into a weird, pointy moustache.)
  8. Wild amounts of BO (post-gym is forgivable if you are headed straight to the shower)
  9. Open-mouth chewers
  10. Long-ish fingernails
  11. Muscle shirts
  12. Anything that could be classified as a "loafer"
  13. Inconsistancy
  14. Disrespect

Things that TOTALLY work for me:
  1. Most tattoos - tattoos are HOT
  2. Some piercings - some of them are sexxxy, some are just lame
  3. Musically inclined - I lurve the musicians
  4. Smart without being a dick about it
  5. Funnier than most people - if I snort, you are SO in
  6. Creative in some fashion
  7. Raging work ethic
  8. Understanding that the little things are just as important as the big
  9. Accepting the fact that sometimes I snort when I laugh too hard

Yeah, this date by this weekend thing may pan out yet. woo!



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Crushin' me, crushin' you

Cate over at supervelma has been stressing to me the importance of having blog crushes. You know what? I have to agree. It's very important to have blog crushes, ESPECIALLY when you are like Cate and contain so much awesome.

Unfortunately, she's got the monopoly on quite a few of you, so it's been suggested that I search outside this circle we've got here. ( I know! There are apparantly people outside our circle!)

So. Now. Internet.

I am going out on a limb here:

I am taking applications for current role as my current blog crush. Tim already is my internet boyfriend (thanks again for asking!) but I need a crush to tide me over.

Who's in?



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Sunday, April 24, 2005
 
Get Outta My Dreams...

Last night, I blame the last minute coleslaw before bed (I know! Gross!) for the trainwreck that was my dreams last night.

Let's just say, that's the second time this week I've had a bad dream involving an ex. And when I say bad, I mean - waking up so mad I want to hit someone.

This goes directly against my pansy-pacifist attitude.

Still, though, they are coming outta nowhere.

Damn you subconscious. Damn you and your sneaky ways.



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Whoops!

Apparantly match.com has a new thing for subscribers to see who's viewed your profile.

I need to apologize to any single friends or anyone I knew had a match account - I'm totally going to show up in your profile views. Not that I was hunting you or trying to ruin the partial anonymity of match, but I am totally fascinated by how many of us are STILL single (and maybe shouldn't be) who use match.com, and last night in my drunken haze, I looked a bunch of you up. And yeah, totally don't worry. I didn't read your profiles - I just opened them to see if it was you.

Good news is that some of the local hotties I looked up must've seen me and decided to wink.

me-ow.



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Saturday, April 23, 2005
 
UTMemories

To whomever from the University of Tennessee in Martin, TN, just came here, welcome!

Some years ago, about 10-15 of us snuck our non-student asses into your library computer lab where I hacked our way into the system so we could all MUD from the same lab.

Yes. We were loud. We were obnoxious. We were not students.

But that was the easiest hacking ever. Seriously.

And yes, I used to play online text-based role playing games. I did it for, god, 7-8 years?

SuperNerd, and I'm totally okay with that.



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Fear Me

I just got $85 worth of groceries for 50 bucks.

Yeah, my coupons and I, we're lovers.

Really frugal lovers.



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Me on men. (mmm... me on men)

It's no secret that I do not trust men. Don't get me wrong, I used to. Completely and totally. It may be naive, but I've always told whoever I was with that "if you are going to cheat, have the balls to break up with me first. I wont get mad, I wont cause a scene, just respect me enough to do that." So far, that has worked about 90% of the time. And honestly, that's more than enough for me.

That's not my trust issue though. Cheating...

Up until the ex, I trusted men with my feelings, my emotions, my strengths, my weaknesses, and my love. I would trust them 100% until given a reason not to trust. I would assume that in turn, I would be treated with respect and with love and with loyalty. I would give myself freely and completely and get attached and roped in very early on. I would fall in love easily and allow myself to be vulnerable and permeable and "touchable".

I don't know if I can do that anymore. Men have a habit of not giving me any reason to trust them. I don't know what it is. Maybe I'm too nice. Maybe I'm too forgiving. Maybe the blind eye has been turned one too many times.

Well, that's all over. I've been thinking about it a lot lately, and I really don't think I can ever really totally trust anyone with the whole me anymore. I don't consider it baggage in the least - I'm not scarred or broken or "ruined". I'm just less carefree with putting myself completely out there. I've done it before, and it ended up partially good, but really really bad. And it isn't that I won't ever want to open up again, I just gotta safeguard myself now. It's become more about protecting the things that are mine. I almost lost myself with the ex, and I refuse to allow that to ever happen again.

So, to anyone who may come into my life in the future:

You've got one hell of a wall to climb. Just know that there is a lot of great stuff on the other side.



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The Morning After

heh. Here's the breakdown:
  • I was good last night. I didn't make any phone calls, and I didn't leave the house.
  • I only got two phone calls, and neither of them lasted very long (good!).
  • I watched tv movies, crappy tv, and the end of ANTM. That show is way funnier when you've consumed that much beer. Oh, and that numb3rs show? LOVE IT. I totally love me some sexy mathematician. What is it about math boys that totally turns me on?
  • Apparantly at some point in the evening, my underwear really pissed me off. I woke up commando in my jammie pants. Too bad I was sleeping alone, right boys?
  • I think I may have pushed my cat off the foot of the bed no less than twice because I had a dream I was being chased by a large dog.
  • match.com - I added some people last night to my "favorites", but we'll see if they are cute this morning. I'm thinking I should have a date!
  • Oh, and the match.guy that I thought was all cute - he changed pictures - OMG NOT SO MUCH.
  • Oh and one last comment on match - "bigsexymonster" - I'm sure you are probably a really nice guy, but large and hairy do nothing for me. And you've winked at LEAST twice. I'm sorry, but no.
  • Today I feel just fine. I'm making some coffee, and have a lot to do. No hangover, whatsoever.
I do go out and have a beer or two on occassion, but generally I'm really not a big drinker. Last night, I thought "you know what, I dont have plans for once, so I'm making my own plans". Actually it was a pretty decent night - I can manage just fine on my own. Maybe later this evening I'll go catch a movie - any suggestions?



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Friday, April 22, 2005
 
Update part deux

Trying to talk myself outta drunk dialing The Cate.

Look out! I'm in rare form tonight.

(Do you realize how many times I had to type this to make it spelled correctly? hehh)



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Dear match.com suitors:

You keep emailing me.

Almost daily.

Too bad I'm not really trusting match to gimmie anything I can use.

Thanks though.



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And so it begins.

This week I've been doing a lot of really tedious work, my sleep schedule has been totally messed up, and the stress level is through the roof.

So, as of right now, let the beer consumption begin.

woo!

[Update:

holy crap. this should be interesting. if i call you, im apologizing right now.]



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Dear Daily Horoscope -

I know I have mixed feelings as to your validity, but please for the love of god stop being so dead on this week.

Also - stop sending me the love horoscope for couples. It only makes me hate everyone more.

Thank you.

- Angie



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Word of Warning:

When I am this overtired, I will most certainly say things that are harsh, uncalled for, or in completely left field.

It also aggrevates my lack of patience for certain things, ESPECIALLY when I've allowed these things to permeate this crunchy outer shell.

So, I apologize for the first, but cannot be blamed for the latter.

And yes, I'm talking to you, you, and especially you.



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Tosser

Remind me again why I shouldn't drink coffee at 11 pm to be able to stay up to get work done...

Oh wait, THAT'S right., it's because I "wake up" feeling JUST LIKE THIS.

dammit.

AND, I missed a girlie slumber party (her boyfriend is out of town and she hates being in that house by herself) where a few of us were going to stay up all night and have pillow fights in high heels and lingerie and tickle each other (drink and talk smack and smoke cigarettes and watch shitty tv). Yeah - I missed it TO WORK.

Shoot me now.



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Wednesday, April 20, 2005
 
All work and no play makes Angie a something something

Lately, or should I say the past few days, I have been getting restless. I have grown tired of the day-to-day and the non-adventure and the lack of any stimulation that doesn't end up either frustrating me or putting me to sleep.

I get bored easily. I start the domino trail in my head and the longer it goes the harder it is to stop.

I'm losing interest in this, that, everything.

Hopefully a change is on the horizon.

Something different than this to soothe my need to just get away.



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Tuesday, April 19, 2005
 
The Great Escape

No sooner then I hit "Publish Post" on that last post, then I see the little bastard saunter past me, all proud of himself.

That isn't a big deal.

What IS a big deal is that the little monster has re-learned how to open the doors in this house. He managed to open the door to the bedroom, and stroll out as if nothing were wrong.

Clever little jackass.



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Dear Roo -

Yes, you are my stinky monkey kitty, and I love you more than you can understand with that walnut brain.

But seriously.

You need to shut the fuck up, just for 10 minutes.

I can't work when you whine like a toddler. Which means it will be even LONGER before we can play.

So seriously, knock it off.

Love, Momma



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Sunday, April 17, 2005
 
Women are from Venus, TOTALLY

I swear, if I watch one more chick flick today, it could have serious repercussions on the first boy I run into tonight.

He's either going to get the best kiss EVER, or a knee to the groin.

Damn you TBS.

Damn you.



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Saturday, April 16, 2005
 
Wow - I'm a Dipshit

Tonight, I was reading my referrals, which led me to some of my archives that I hadn't read in ages.

Let's just say, wow - I really was blind. You know, my intuition is a bitch, because honestly, it's usually dead on. That last few months though, I stifled the shit out of it.

[blurb omitted because honestly, I dont care enough to leave it in. heh. SO over it.]

Note to self: red flags are still red flags. Good god.



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Friday, April 15, 2005
 
Le Freak, So Chic

So.

That guy called back - you know, the one from last weekend. He'd forgotten that night, and saw my number in his phone so he called.

Which was very sweet.

So what do I do?

Become Super Spaz and talk a mile a minute and make no sense whatsoever. I can't even tell you what I said to him, but it was something about I wasn't going to be the one to get him pulled over by the cops on the interstate...

Yeah, it happens.

But it gets worse. He had to get off the phone because he had another call.

I'd be willing to bet I don't get a second call.

[Update - 2.5 hours and counting. Man - I sure know how to make it happen! For the record, this is way more funny than it should be. That poor guy. Really - if you read this, I'm sorry I'm such a spaz.]

heh.

Welcome to my Friday.

I'm so smooth.



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No More 2004!

That about does it - pretty much all of last year is a wash.

Who's with me in declaring that 2004 never really existed?

No More, 2004!
No More, 2004!

Dammit.



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Damn the Man

How is it that I made less than $10,800 last year, and I have to pay almost $510 in taxes?

[Update: Additionally, I get to pay $106 in state taxes. WTF?]

Seriously.

If I'm only making 2/3 of those at poverty level, should I really have to pay almost 1 month's wages?

That's full-on bullshit if you ask me.

(Oh, and I forgot to add that it's going to cost me $70 to file. The gov't could've at least bought me dinner before they decided to gangbang me. Jesus.)



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Thursday, April 14, 2005
 
Take the Federlines Bowling, Take them Bowling

So, schedule allowing, the loverly Cate and I are going White Trash Bowling tomorrow night. She suggested dinner at Wendy's and I think I just may marry that girl.

If you want to join us (the plans are still up in the air), email me at BigBallFederline@blueshoediaries.com.

White trashy-ness is not optional.

Ooo, and I can drink Coors Light or preferably The Beast, although I doubt anyone still carries that crap.



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Wednesday, April 13, 2005
 
Dear Pest-Control Team -

Yes, I know there are three of you, and you are all about my age, and I came to the door in a little nighty top and sweatpants, but I can still hear you through the walls.

Just thought you should know.

-Angie



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Right as Rain

I ended up getting a late night call and going out tonight. It made the whole mood much better.

Things are definately back to good, no, I take that back.

Things are back to great.



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So much left to say, but no words to say it

A lot of crazyness has happened in the past week, mostly fantastic craziness.

Unfortunately, tonight is not the night to tell the stories. I just don't have it in me.

Tonight is a night of calm. Calm, and a bit of sad and just drowning my sorrows in this vodka tonic, just because I can.

For the record, I handle rejection like I handle other things: sometimes it's just easier to deny it all away. But still, totally your loss, because I make a great Leia, but I make an even better me.



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Friday, April 08, 2005
 
All Hail the Chief

I will post more about the past few weeks soon, but today/tonight was just one of THOSE days.

I have to say, that when you are treated to a great dinner almost every Thursday night with wine and/or beer, and it's your job to bring the apps or dessert, don't mess it up.

Tonight? One great recipe for a light dessert - grilled peaches with sugar and ginger, a honey lime glaze, and vanilla bean ice cream. Sounds tasty, no? It would have been, but the peaches sucked ass. They would have been fantastic if not for the raging amounts of suck.

However, the glaze on the ice cream was tasty.

Stupid peaches.



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Wednesday, April 06, 2005
 
For Starters

It was Sunday night, and I was scheduled to be at the airport in 6 hours. It didn't matter though - I had put that little bit of extra effort into looking good, and I was ready to shake my ass at Metalhead.

The night started off innocently enough. I thought that once again, I'd be flying solo.

I was wrong.

So, so, so wrong.

His name was Ben. He sold health insurance. He was nice and funny but.

Yes, there's a LOT of buts.

He reminded me of someone I don't like or trust, and that made it hard for me to really enjoy his company. He tried way too hard. I mean WAY too hard. He wasn't silly and fun so much as he became lame and annoying.

I know! Judgemental bitch!

In fairness, I tried, I really tried to give this guy a shot. I mean, who knows, right? He could end up being the kindest boy I've ever met. He could make me laugh so hard that I pee a little. He could make me adore him in ways I've never adored anyone.

But not this one. Not at all.

He just tried too hard. I met his friends. He SAT ON MY LAP. He talked too close and danced even closer.

Anyone who knows me knows that I need the close but I also need my space. Ben just didn't know me, and I was too nice to tell him to back off.

With his business card in my Victoria's Secret bra, I found my friends and tried to be as nice as possible while giving him the cold shoulder. It's not the nicest method, but being as anti-confrontational as I am, it's the best way for me.

My money says he's none the wiser and I get groped again next week. Thank god for my pretend boyfriends who also will be there.



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Lots and Lots

Man. I've gone slack.

I got home a couple days ago from Wisconsin, and every time I've tried to post either Blogger was King Bitch or I got lazy.

My Bad.

So, here we go: I'll start another post telling of the tales of Angie



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