Bitin' McBitey..

That's me name!

And once I get ahold of ye?

Bitin's me game!




I have to give credit where due, this was Bruce's idea. No, really. I had nothing to do with it.

Ok, so I might have added a little on the "Show the world what dorks we are in the morning before we get out of bed" front. All the humor stuff is his, though.

Linus is a retard, but at least he's a MEXICAN retard. Ole!

Don't let him tell you he can't cook!

Update, Glorious Update

I wish I would be updating more often, but really? I haven't really been feeling like it. Bite me.

Don't get me wrong, dear readers. Feeling guilty over something as self-serving as blogging is sure to represent a clear psychotic tendancy, and I'm never one to admit to having one of those. So I won't. These hives have nothing to do with the burning, itching, crawling skin I may or may not feel at not blogging for over a week.

I should mention, however, that I am getting married in a little over a month. A LITTLE OVER A MONTH! There are so many things I'm thinking about and not doing anything about.. I could go on and on. But I won't. To do so would be to virtually pat my neurotic mother on the back for a job well done in teaching her daughter to be severly co-dependant. Which I am not. Really.

In any case, there are many many things which are currently occupying my time. For instance, napping. And eating. And promising myself to go walking. And eating. And feeling guilty over not blogging, eating, napping, eating, and not going walking. And also for leaving my wedding outfit at home in Wisconsin. And eating. And not falling asleep in a reasonable amount of time (unless said sleep is a nap).

Today, I am going for a walk, come hell or high water. (Both are extremely possible in Springfield.)

I walked into the computer room to blog, and the kitten followed me. Linus was barely in here for a minute - I had just started to type - when I heard an odd sound coming from behind me. I looked around. He had decided to nap. And fallen asleep in 30 seconds. Snoring sleep.

Apparently, 6 weeks wasn't enough time for his mother to teach him how to be properly neurotic.

Pretentious-Sounding Authors to Look Into:

Rhys Bowen

Lindsey Davis

PCOMPR

Me: Hello?

Lisa: Sarah?

M: Uh, yeah. What's up?

L: OH! I just got home, and I'm going to get ready and come over and then we can go out. And also, I have some good news about my job and a possible promotion! And a raise!

....[other, less interesting and unimportant to the joke conversation ensues]

L: Ok, so I'll be over in a little bit. Did you need any Meat Lover's Pizza(TM)?

M: No, I had a pot pie, but thanks.

L: Yeah, I stopped on the way home and got some pizza in Premature Celebration Of My Possible Raise.

Neighborly Love

A car just pulled up to the driveway across the road from my house (in that he was blocking the driveway, not driving into it), and a very respectable-type man got out. His wife, looking the very spitting image of the good little prissy thing I'm sure she tries very hard to appear as, sat inside. He had pulled over to scrape his windshield.

I can't wait until I am in the great state of Misery (as everyone up here is ever-so-fond of calling it) again, where the act of scraping one's windshield is almost ludicrous, especially in the middle of a drive. Only in the glorious upper midwest is an act like that acceptable.

On the off chance that you assume that I'm being assumptuous, let me point out that no one of any respectability has ever lived on our street. Ever. And if they did, they most certainly would not choose the driveway of the Evil Drug Dealing Duplex to do their scraping business in front of. No sir.

Ramblings

Tomorrow I get to go home! Weather that doesn't suck ass! Hooray!

Seriously, we got at least 1000 feet of snow yesterday. And I have no more clean socks. Or shoes without holes in them.

The snow is piling up outside the window, and I can see why some people (people who don't live in it every year, people who've never had to shovel, etc.) might find it attractive. To some extent.

I had a very complicated dream last night while I was drunk. It involved many cases of cadbury creme eggs and boxes full of Mini Eggs. I know it was a dream because I'm not craving chocolate any less, and also because that's Totally Not Their Packaging Scheme. Seriously. I am disappointed in my brain.

We went out last night to R&R. Becky, Lisa and I played us some wicked Naked Man Trivia, only to discover that Naked Woman Trivia is way easier. I ended up talking to Mike for a while--the fucker's lost 40lbs! How the hell do people do it?! I want to inject him with my 40lbs!--because he's splitting up with his wife. I can't believe how that family manages to raise such fantastic guys, only to have them get dumped all over all the time. It makes me sick.

I cancelled on one of my best friends today. We had planned to meet up in Appleton and hang out for a while, but given the smothering blanket of snow, my dad and I were both apprehensive about the drive. Also, his brakes don't work, and leaving for Appleton for half the day would leave them with nothing but each other to entertain.. each other.. all day long. NOT COOL. I know they go shopping together now, but there's only just so much you can expect out of parents.

What I've Been Up To:

In order, because it makes the most sense.

• Flying on a plane with a couple of the loudest, most inconsiderate, crappy-anus-joke-making business men you could ever hope to meet.
• Waiting for 2 hours in the Minneapolis/St.Paul airport. Eating cheesecurds. Prepping myself for a long week of pigging out.
• Flying again. Watching all the pretty lights go by down below, and trying to figure out which set of lights are which city. I used to drive from Minneapolis to Shawano every few weeks, and I still had no clue which was what.
• Going out with Lisa. We got dissed at the first bar we went to, and hit on at the second. When I first started as a pharmacy technician, the reason I started was because 4 (yes, FOUR) people got fired from the pharmacy in one day. One of those people was Joe, whom I saw out at the bars a few weeks later. I (in a drunken haze) told him that I had his job now, and he proceeded to look me up and down and tell me that I'd "never be as good as him". I was understandably pissed. On Saturday night, we saw him at R&R ("Everybody's talkin' 'bout the new bowling alley, but it's still R&R to me".. they changed the name to Mountain Bay Lanes. MBL = Lamer than shit) and he hit on me. Greeeeaaat.
• I forget what I did on Sunday.. dum-dee-diddle-dum..
• Monday I called Grady and left him a message. Then, later, I called him again, and we went out. We went to Brickstone, shot some darts (I think I broke aproximately 3 of his dart-tips), and had a couple of beers. Afterwards, I was pretty tired (God, I'm old), so we came back to my house, where we sat in my room and talked for a few hours. I can't believe how lucky I am to have two best friends whom I am completely comfortable with.
• Tuesday Lisa and I went shopping. We planned on buying my wedding dress, and "settled" for a "wedding ensemble/outfit/suit". After a few close calls with hyperventilation, that is. We also went to Perkins, where we saw Todd, and to BW3's with him afterward. Later that night, we went to visit her sister and then watched people bowl for about an hour.
• Yesterday, I sat at home and watched DVD's. Even though I've spent hours and hours bonding with them, I still have to say that Carrie totally gets on my nerves most days (Dude, what's up with the outfits? I mean, seriously), Charlotte makes me want to hit her, Miranda doesn't know what's good for her, and Samantha is having a hard time making me relate, no matter how many intimate settings I see her in. I'm beginning to think that I'm just not a Sex and the City sorta gal. Sad.
• Today, Lisa and I went to Bingo. Hillarity abounded.

More updates later.

I really want to emphasize how much I hate being away from Bruce. I'm having a really hard time staying awake, and I think he's got something to do with it. I love that guy, and I can't imagine ever being without him again. My heart aches for him. I go to sleep at night, after an hour of laying still, only to wake up an hour later with my butt freezing off and nothing to cuddle it up to. I want to curl myself into a ball into him, and it's impossible. I want to wake up to an insane kitten, and have a midnight laugh about throwing him out of the bedroom. I want to fall asleep and wake up to him making his sleeping-sounds. It's too quiet in my room (before I fall asleep, obviously). My pillow is too squishy to even seem real. I wake up exactly as I go to sleep: tired, alone, and aching for him. Sometimes it's hard to breathe.

Lisa and I have turned into that old couple who broke up a while ago, whom everyone is really happy to see got back together again. I only say 'old' because we are those people who talk about old places of business in terms of what they used to be. IE: "The old Soo-Line" is "Brickstone", and "R&R, because it'll never fucking be Mountain Bay Lanes" is.. well.. you know.

Friday Countdown:

22: Hours until I board the plane to Green Bay.

6: Beers I have drunk tonight.

43908: Beers I have drunk in my lifetime.

934: Beers I plan to drink later tonight.

2: Numbers of times I have thought about merry-go-rounds in the past 24 hours.

24: Hours in which I have thought about 2 merry-go-rounds.

1: Time I need to call Lisa, to tell her of my plans to be in Shawano for a week.

43: Times I have reminded myself to call Lisa to tell her of my plans to be in Shawano (March 12-20, 2005).

0: Number of times I have called Lisa to tell her of my plans to be in Shawano tomorrow (for one week).

1: Time I plan to call Lisa regarding above.

7: Times I plan to get drunk in the next week.

98: Beers I intend to drink in the next 8 days.

7: Inappropriate makeout sessions with Bruce in preparation for leaving.

9: Times I plan to have sex with my cordless phone in Wisconsin.

1,000,000: Minutes I will spend missing him with all my heart and soul and genitalia.

8: Minutes until I can call Lisa (free nights and weekends, woo-to-the-HOOO).

978: Ways in which I am a complete retard/dork.

3: Suggestions my mind just gave me for combining the words retard and dork in amusing ways as I typed that.

Hi!

How are you? I am fine.

Actually, I'm not. I'm the worst fiancee in the world. Really, I am. Let me tell you a little story about how lazy I really am. It's not only infected my bones, it's rooted itself through my ass, and into the chair.

I'm serious. As soon as I get insurance, I'm totally going to get these ass-roots checked into.

But anyway, I was telling you about my lazy-ocity. I was going to use another word, but when I spelt it, it looked wrong in every case. Lazyness? Laziness? Lazienyss? All look wrong to me today.

Ok, so I just got home from work. I waited about 1/2 hour, and then I called Bruce's cell phone, to see how he was doing. He's doing fine. Well, mostly. They're working. Just thought you'd want to know.

Anyway, they're taking a break right now.

Ok, so he's on the phone with me, and he asks if I got his note.

"What note?"

"The one that was right in front of your face when you walked in the door. The big, bright, yellow note. At eye level. The one that jumped out at your face when you came in."

"I don't see it."

"It's yellow."

"Oh, the big one? With writing on it? Ok, I see it."

And then he asked if I was coming over later. Yes, I am.

He wants me to bring him a pair of pants. I sat in confused silence for a few seconds. Why would he need pants? Why? Did he forget them at home? How did he leave the house without pants? I hope it's not Commando Tuesday. Then he explained.

Apparently, he had a child on his lap, and the child pissed on him. You heard me. On his lap.

So now his pants are all wet. He rinsed them off with water to dilute the pee. He wants to know if I'll bring him over some dry pants when I come over.

I'm the laziest fiancee in the world because I first agreed to come over straight away. I don't want my fiancee to have to marinade in someone else's pee for any amount of time. Jeez. What kind of person do you think I am?

But then, after I said that, I thought, "Man, I really want to sit around for a while, and post a big long post on my blog. Maybe I'll go over later." And then I said I'd be there in a few minutes, but instead I posted a big long story about how I'm letting my fiancee marinade in someone else's diluted pee while I type.

You know, I'm just like that.

The OC

An ad came on during American Idol, proclaiming the new trailer for Star Wars III, Revenge of the Sith. It's going to be shown during the next episode of The OC. You know, that one about the parents/teenagers who live in the lap of luxury and spend all of their waking hours wondering who on the show they can fuck next. The following conversation followed:

Me: I am so not watching that show just to see that trailer.

Bruce: Oh.. uh.. well, I might. Just to see it.

M: Oh, come on, you watch The OC anyways.

B: What?

M: I've seen you watch it.

B: What?!

M: You remember, I caught you watching it that one night.

B: Nuh-UH!

M: Uh-HUH! I totally caught you!

B: You're so getting a spanking.

M: [singsongy teasing]"I like that show, it reminds me of Melrose Place."[/singsongy teasing]

B: (getting up off the couch)Oh, you best be running.

Mind Over Matter

I have officially caught up on my email! Even though it took me 3 weeks! Maybe next, I can return the phone call I got a month ago! And I've been corresponding with an absolutely wonderful, insanely funny, and completely interesting person, with a blog way better than mine could ever be, but she still enjoys our conversations enough to continue them! Hooray!

I've got a lot of things to tell everyone, so hold on tight. First, but not least importantly, the cat has been dragging things out of the trash to play with. Yes, as you might well expect, this is entirely my own damn fault. You see, two weeks ago, when we got the cutesy package of random useless things from my mom, it was wrapped inside the box in pink tissue paper. I threw some of the paper on the floor for the kitten to play with, and now he thinks all things pink-and-tissuey are there for his amusement. Unfortunately, when I picked up the paper from the floor and threw it away, it wasn't into the trash, but into a cardboard-trash-box in the corner of the kitchen, and Linus discovered this. Since the discovery, he's been playing with random things out of all of the trash bins in the apartment. He either hasn't discovered the bathroom yet, or has more pride than we do, because that trash hasn't come into play. Thank Jebus.

I made my famous zucchini casserole this week. It's a very simple recipe, consisting of 1# of browned hamburger, 1 can of cream of mushroom soup, 5 cups thinly sliced zucchini, and 1# velveeta (processed cheese product), layered (by halves) twice, and baked in a 350 degree oven for an hour and a half. I gave myself second degree burns by attempting to take it out of the oven without a mitt. That's a guess, mind you. I might also have given myself a freaking pressure burn by pressing too hard when in a spurt of obsessive cleaning. How insane am I that I actually prefer the former? Very.

On March 12, I fly to Wisconsin. We actually ended up getting a better deal on the trips out of Springfield directly into Green Bay than the ones going from STL to MKE, so that's the one we picked. I can't tell you how amazed/scared/excited I am to be going. I'm worried that a)no one will remember me, b)everyone will remember me, and everyone will be sad that I'm back, c)I won't get anything done, and the whole trip will be a waste, and d)while I'm gone, Bruce will meet a sultry temptress who will know how to make pancakes without leaving the insides raw and bleeding, and leave me without notice. Also, that the kitten might not miss me at all/forget my very existance. And no one will clean the litter box.

Is that a great update, or what?

Easter!

I may have mentioned in the past that I grew up going to Catholic school. I might also have said something about how I was required to go to [gag]church[/gag] at least two times a week. I might have also mentioned the Stations of the Cross. Also known as the Most Painful Abuse Of Any Child, Anywhere. Every Friday during lent, this was my life.

It should come as no surprise, then, that I do NOT spend any time thinking about Easter. I have (in a very beneficial manner) specifically excluded any and all lenten doings from my mind. (See? I can't even spell that "pertaining to lent" word. I refuse to look it up.) I DO, however, spend much time celebrating other Easter delights.

I didn't eat any Mini Eggs last year, so this is the year I make up for that. Just in time for my wedding.

Web Fire Escape

Web Fire Escape: "The Web Fire Escape is a simple device which has been designed to allow readers of weblogs to instantly replace a Web Fire Escape equipped blog with an alternate work-safe site or a fake word processor or spreadsheet application. When you see a weblog with the Web Fire Escape equipped button you can be sure that career salvation is only a click away should a work colleague or manager approach your desk whilst you are catching up with your daily blogs."

I have to admit it, I stole this from
Well, I'm off to fish him out of the toilet! Have a nice day!

***Yes, this is a blatant attempt at more traffic. Screw you. You're just mad 'cause I had the opportunity first. Neener neener neener!

A Horse Is a Horse; Of Course, Of Course..

Have I ever mentioned that my mom makes little-to-no sense when she writes things down? I never realized how bad it was until the only way we spoke was through email. Example:

"Dad had a thing, but it got better. Ha ha, I'm sure you know how it goes. Anyway, I'm pretty sure it's nothing, but if it's not, then at least you know I told you so. Ha ha. Things are good here, except for dad's leg. But I already told you about that, so I guess I should go, miss you. I know, I know, I talk too much! Bye!"

Ok, so that's a paraphrase. Point being, it sounds as though something potentially serious is going on, but it's pretty likely that I'll never know. Thank Pete I'm going home in a few weeks. I can get the story directly from the horse's mouth. (Not that my dad is a horse, mind you. If he was, he'd be like Mr. Ed, in that he MAKES SENSE WHEN HE COMMUNICATES. Unlike my mother.)

I guess what happened was, a few weeks back, he took a tumble when trying to get his van out of a ditch. He fell down a hill, and twisted his knee a little bit. Oh, and he also cut his leg. DEEP ENOUGH TO CUT THE CALF MUSCLE. That was in January. Since then, he's been self prescribing treatment: "Soaking, peroxiding, neo, bandage..." He went in to the doctor this week, because it wasn't getting any better.

I'm surprised he went in already, actually. It's not even gangrenous yet!

What's the difference between a northern fairytale and a southern fairytale?

A northern fairytale begins "Once upon a time..." A southern fairytale begins "Y'all ain't gonna believe this shit..."

I got an email from my only paternal cousin today, and just getting it was enough to give me a giant grin. She signed it "your friend", which makes it all the better.

My kitten is growing at an exponential rate. His teeth are growing along with the rest of his body.

I'm going to fly home for the third week in March. I have permission now.

We went to Mac and Pam's house last night and got to hang out for the first time in a few months. All the gang was there, and everyone seemed to have a great time.