Before you know it, you're the crazy cat lady in the scary house

When Caffeine Attacks--Next On Fox

April 29, 2003 ... 2:44 p.m.

When Caffeine Attacks--Next On Fox

Ethan the Wonderful: �Where are you from?"
Eibisch: �Um...Iowa. Duh.�
Ethan the Wonderful: �Then you should know it�s pronounced puh-lice, not POE-lice.�
Eibisch: �Shut up.�

Ahhh...it is prom time again. I hate prom time. My prom sucked. Like a black hole made up of Hoovers, it did. The only good memory I have of prom time is when Oscar and his pals wore those horrible pastel and oddly colored tuxes to school for a day to promote a tux shop. Oscar�s was orange and yellow and he wore cream colored shoes. He looked like an Orange Julius puked all over him.

Can I just tell you how much I enjoy text-messaging my friends with asinine and nonsensical messages? Yes I do. There are even some diaries/blogs/journals I read that have a message sender. I sent one to Oscar overseas last week because it was National Hairball Awareness Day. Oscar does not have a cat, nor does he have a hairball problem (see? I�m aware!). He does, however, have a phone that I can text to wherever and whenever I so desire. And he was unwise enough to give me access.

Mwahahahaha!

Now he gets messages like �Did you know Sheboygan is the bratwurst capital of the world?�

And his friends are like
�There is a girl...texting you...from halfway around the world...about Sheboygan?"
"You go, boy! Get your game on!�
5 minutes later you know they�re all laughing hysterically. And making really lame locker room jokes about me and bratwurst.

I might should�ve thought that one through a little more, but I can�t really be held responsible. Because, really, who in their right mind just hands me that kind of power?
Gee, let�s give Eibisch a device over which we have no control and has the potential of abjectly humiliating us!
Does that sound sane to you? Too late now. You cannot put the cat back in the bag! Is that the right expression? Because I totally blanked.

On another note...Manor House. I love it. I like the PBS reality shows, and if that makes me a dork....yeah, well, welcome and thanks for catching up.

Tristan. Hi.
Charlie. Hi.
Upstairs people (except lil� Mister Guy). I would so have done something icky to your precious pudding wine. Oh yeah I would.
Also, everybody downstairs dancing and poor M. Dubiard cleaning all the gulls for the party? Tsk, tsk. People. Think about it.
He�s French.
And temperamental.
And HE HAS UNFETTERED ACCESS TO MEAT CLEAVERS!
Does �the secret�s in the sauce� mean nothing to you people?
I�m just saying.

The whole vegetarian thing is going...well, it�s going. It�s not so bad. Actually, I like it--I�m enjoying it. If you tell anybody I said that, I�ll have to kill you. I�m not sure I�d be able to pull off the vegan thing. But I�m not eating much dairy right now anyway, so who knows?

I do have to say though, the other night, the Food Network did a show called Food Finds and featured a restaurant called Sticky Fingers. Sticky Fingers is all about Memphis-style bbq. All about the ribs. Rack after rack after rack of slow cooked bbq St. Louis ribs. Mmmm.........ribs.

My brother came in the house yesterday afternoon a bloody mess. Blood everywhere. Wiped out during a speed race with Jordan, the neighbor boy. Smacked, face first, into crazy neighbor lady�s driveway/curb. Since I was the only one home, I cleaned him up. He scraped his nose and chin, cut a finger and wrist, broke a tooth and knocked another loose. He didn�t even cry...until he was sure Jordan was gone. But, once he realized he was going to live, he was cool. He looks like he went a couple rounds with Sonny Liston, though.

He watched cartoons about 45 minutes, then decided to go ride his bike more. Go figure. But it�s actually a good thing--he�s beginning to act more like a boy. He�s a bit feminine in his mannerisms. He�s not flitting around the house to the Village People in a pink tutu or anything, he�s just a little to fussy about getting dirty or his clothes matching just so. He was, at any rate. I�m totally rubbing off on him.
He used to be all--Egads! My sleeve has a bit of dust on it!
Now he�s all--Blood? On my shirt? And?

That�s my influence, thank you very much. My clothing scheme works thusly--I wear jeans almost exclusively.
Because they go with everything.
Otherwise, I am apt to go to school wearing an orange and brown plaid shirt with pink pants and a gray t-shirt.
Because I just don�t care.
I can make my sister cry with my fashion sense. And, God forbid I intentionally try to make/match a nice outfit.
Because then I can make my mom cry.

Still haven�t met with the guidance counselor to register. Next Monday. All the good classes are gonna be taken. And then I�ll have to take Wine Appreciation 101, which I will totally flunk because...well...wine. And then I won�t graduate or move out or get into WSU or graduate from there or get a good job or really any job, for that matter, or get married or have kids and I�ll end up living in a cardboard box next to the some washed up college basketball player begging for change at the Des Moines IHOP.

Currently Reading:
The Da Vinci Code by Dan Brown

Listening To: AM Radio
...What did you expect to get from telling me you don�t understand anything or how I am...

~*~

Have a happy day!

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