Monday, February 28, 2005

I'm still not back at work

When I was in the hospital all doped up on morphine, I remember thinking, "Oh my God-I have so much to write about in my blog because of this." Now all I can think about is that no less than 15 people that I don't know saw my boobs.

Also I will say this: don't be so quick to dismiss catheters. They really don't hurt that much, and you never feel like you have to pee. You just have to lay there not peeing, and some poor soul has to drain all your pee from a bag for you. I'm just saying if you're ever feeling really lazy, look into it.

I have a few shout-outs I need to make.

To my friends and family: Thank you soooo much for all the cards, flowers, phone calls, etc. I appreciate them so much, and they really did make me feel better. Mom, Dad and Diane, thanks for staying home with me and taking care of me. Now make me lunch.

To my nurses: You guys rock. I'm sorry for all the gross things you had to do for me including the previously mentioned pee-draining.

To the hospital volunteer lady who pushed me in the wheelchair out to my mom's car when I left: Slow the fuck down, biatch! And quit spinning me and maneuvering me all over the goddamn place! I am not a toy car! Also my mom told you she parked a million miles away so quit sighing impatiently while we wait for her to come to the door. Don't volunteer if you hate it so much. P.S. There is an age after which that haircut is no longer appropriate.

To my other organs: Let this be a lesson to you all. If you mess with me, I will not hesitate to remove your ass.

Saturday, February 26, 2005

Silver lining

One good thing about having surgical incisions right where the waistband of my pants go is that now when I'm at work and someone asks, "Why the hell aren't you wearing any pants?!?", I'll actually have a good reason.

Thursday, February 24, 2005

I don't need no stinkin' gall bladder!

Hello, my babies. Sorry I haven't been around. In honor of President's Day I decided to go to the emergency room and spend all night there getting tested. Then for the big celebratory finale, I got my gall bladder removed Tuesday afternoon. Yay, America! I hope all you old Presidents enjoyed my sacrifice in honor of you!

Seriously, though, it turns out Scott's family did not try to kill me as I originally thought. I was just suffering from some seriously pissed off gall stones. I came home from the hospital yesterday afternoon and am on some crazy meds that are making me very loopy which is why I will keep this short. Just wanted to tell everyone out there that I miss you, and thanks to all my friends for their well wishes. B sent me two gorgeous flower arrangements.....goddammit-there is nothing bad I can say about that.

Talk to you soon.

P.S. Dear Gall Bladder, you are not the boss of me!!!!!

Sunday, February 20, 2005

Mansion party

I don't know if it was the cheesecake fight that took place between me, Jace and Diane which resulted in Jace sucking on my hair an hour later or Mike and his friends pushing each other down the stairs in a wheelchair or Danielle doing the "Oops! I Did it Again" dance or maybe even Drew hiding Matt's shoe in a cupboard by the fireplace until morning, but at some point Saturday night I realized, "Holy shit-my friends are awesome."

Friday, February 18, 2005

Catholicism ruined my lunch

Every month we have a team luncheon where we get free food, play games and give out awards and stuff. The food's usually pretty good so I am okay with these particular luncheons. However, today since it is Friday during Lent season, the menu had to be altered at the last minute to remove the meat for all of my Catholic co-workers. Guess what the meat was replaced with? Mushrooms! Mother...effing...mushrooms! They were everywhere-in every single dish. Look-I am not Catholic, and while I don't understand all the Catholic traditions, I can appreciate them just as I appreciate that all religions come with their own unique set of beliefs and traditions (though I am decidedly against the religious tradition of blowing yourself up to kill Americans just because we're arrogant and are responsible for "Full House"). But should I have to suffer by being completely surrounded and inundated with mushrooms just because you guys can't eat meat? I mean seriously WTF? Nobody likes mushrooms, and if you say you do you're a goddamn liar or your taste buds are broken (you should get that checked out). Mushrooms! Dammit!

Sidenote to the J-man and his dad, the man upstairs: All swearing is for humor purposes only and should not be construed as taking anyone's name in vain. I love you so please don't send me to hell, okay? Thanks.

Thursday, February 17, 2005

I'm still standing (yeah, yeah, yeah)

So far there have been at least 3 attempts on my life involving the use of food. I thought at first that there were actually 4, but it turns out Pizza Hut is supposed to taste like that.

The first time was when I was a little kid, and my mother used chicken pot pie as her weapon. I told her in no uncertain terms that I knew what she was up to and that if forced to consume the chicken pot death pie, I would throw it up. She didn't waver so I reluctantly took a bite. As promised, within seconds I ran to the kitchen sink and threw it up. Attempt #1: Foiled.

The second time was a couple years ago, and this time the culprit was my sister. She kindly offered to cook me dinner-Pasta Roni. I gladly accepted. 'That's really sweet of her!' I thought. Little did I know her only goal was to see me dead. After a few bites of the angel hair pasta of doom, I knew. "This tastes funny," I said. She told me to suck it up. I kept eating. Then I started feeling sick and decided to take matters into my own hands. I grabbed the box out of the garbage and noticed it had expired approximately a year and a half earlier. Attempt #2: Foiled.

The third time was last night, and this time an entire crime family tried to take me down at a pizza buffet. I went out to eat with Scott and his family, and like a true gentleman Scott paid for my meal. That should've tipped me off right there. "Oh no, Sarah, I'll get this-since it will be your LAST MEAL EVER!!!" Like an idiot, I left my food unattended while I went up to get us drinks. What a rookie mistake. It was at that time that the youngest one took the opportunity to poison my food. Already at 6 months he is the most dangerous one of the family. Later on that night we played volleyball, and Scott subbed for us-no doubt on the orders of the youngest one to make sure I was "taken care of". I started to feel sick during the first game, but I just let it go. Then slowly it started to feel like someone was reaching into my chest and literally squeezing the life out of my heart. I had to lie down. Eventually the pain turned to nausea, and I threw up. I felt great after that, but that was only the beginning. The heart-squeezing started again. Then turned to nausea again. The cycle continued for a couple hours, and now this morning my chest is sore, and I have one of the worst headaches I've ever experienced. But I'm still alive. Nice try, Scott's family! Attempt #3: Foiled.

Wednesday, February 16, 2005

Injury Report

On Saturday we played football in what was essentially a giant mud pit. If you stood in one place too long, you were suctioned to the ground. A girl on our team got suctioned and then tried to run except only half of her foot would move. The other half just stuck there. And therefore all the ligaments in her foot tore away from the bone. Ga-gew. Her injury got me thinking about all my serious injuries. And here's the thing I discovered: almost every single one of them was completely self-inflicted. They were brought about by my complete and utter lack of coolness. Here I compare and contrast:

  • Tearing ligaments in your foot while playing football? Cool. (Mariella)

  • Breaking your wrist because you fell off the wrought iron lamp post you were climbing after your dad told you 72 times to "get the hell of the lamp post"? Uncool. (Me)

  • Tearing ligaments in your ankle while playing volleyball? Cool. (Diane)

  • Getting knocked unconscious because you smacked into a concrete wall face first because you were running at it full speed in wet snowboots after your mom told you 72 times to "stop running at the damn concrete wall"? Uncool. (Me)

  • Tearing ligaments again in your ankle while playing volleyball? Cool-albeit a little less cool than the first time. (Diane again)

  • Having to be on crutches because you bruised your heel jumping out of the back of a school bus during an emergency drill? Uncool. (Me)

  • Breaking your tooth off in someone's head playing basketball? Way cool. (My dad)

  • Burning your entire wrist and hand because you accidentally spilled 200 degree water on yourself while trying to dump out the water that keeps the hot fudge hot at your afterschool job at Friendly's? (Me)

Road rage

Everyone who drove my route today is a GOD.DAMN.MORON!!! Especially you, black pick up truck with the stupid cap on. Yeah I'm talking to you, numbnuts. The one who thinks if that if the lane next to him is backed up he should probably not be moving either even though the there are absolutely no cars in front of him for 10 miles. I swear if I ever see you again I will side swipe you. Then while you are still dazed, wondering what happened, I will get out of my car and come over there and punch you in the neck. Then I will steal any change you have in your cupholders. Sac up and drive like a real man, or get the hell off the road!

Tuesday, February 15, 2005

A dangerous disease

Here at Okay Seriously, we care about your health. I'm not sure why I just said 'we' since it's only me, but it's fine. Anyway, the best way to protect yourself against health problems is to arm yourself with knowledge. And today I would like to discuss a disease called N Cancer which is a form of cancer that is not cancerous. Symptoms to watch out for include:

- A fake case of anemia
- Bragging about organ removal
- Making up names and stories of people in your fake support group
- Running to the bathroom to fake throw up
- Becoming addicted to cocaine (by "addicted" I mean that you never actually use cocaine)
- Going away on weekend trips to the Smoky Mountains* by yourself** just to "get away"
- Absolutely no weight loss
- Absolutely no hair loss
- Having friends who are total suckers

* Family wedding in Michigan
** With your parents

Six years ago I had a friend who had this disease. In fact it is named after him. He displayed these symptoms for 8 months. Thankfully, there is a cure. All you have to do is find out the truth that your friend has been faking cancer and magically he or she will be in remission. It's a miracle!!! In N's case, he was very sick with N Cancer until our friend Sudha asked N's dad about how N was dealing with his cancer, and his dad said, "Um....what?"

To cut to the point, yes, in 1999 one of my very best friends faked having cancer for 8 months. He was pre-med so he knew all the medical terms, the treatments, the medicines, the stages, etc. He made up stories about the people in his support group. He called me every night in the middle of the night to come sit with him and hold his hand and cry with him. He would run to the bathroom and "throw up" while we were over. He bought his clothes in bigger sizes so it looked like he was losing weight. When we went to confront him he even told us that the reason his dad didn't know what Sudha was talking about was because only his mom knew. And when I said, "Okay then I'll just go ask your mom." He lunged after me. My ex and Sudha had to pull him off of my back. Then he ran away. Within a week, the truth just started pouring in. He had told us he got accepted to Stanford medical school and even printed out his class schedule to show Diane. He didn't even get in to med school-anywhere. He told his parents that my mom had breast cancer (not true thank God). He told people that he and I were dating (mah!). He told people he was addicted to cocaine and alcohol. All lies.

All of N's friends cried for 8 months thinking our friend was dying. On the day we found out it was all bogus, we laughed our asses off. I think it's because we were so relieved that he wasn't sick, and also the holy-shit-that-is-fucked-up factor. He tried reconciling by sending us all the same email claiming he really was sick and that his parents didn't know about it, only his uncle did (who when asked about it was like, "WTF?"). In the email one paragraph was "personalized" for each person. In my personalized paragraph he said he was going crazy without me. I think we can all agree that by that point, he had already arrived at Crazy Land, set up residence and was paying taxes.

About 2 weeks after everything came to light, N's little brother saw my sister somewhere and said, "So is your sister, like, still really mad?" Um yeah-you could say that.

Monday, February 14, 2005

My Valentine's Day didn't suck!

I'm going to attempt to keep my Bachelorette comments brief and just say this: Jen, you're a moron. I can no longer support you in your endeavor to find true love in 4 weeks on a reality television show. Any man who was sweet and genuine has been dealt with swiftly and severely by you until all that is left is a two named, non-sock-wearing Don Johnson wannabe and a monotone, humorless reality-television-star-obsessed snoozefest. After you kicked Ryan off tonight, Diane turned to me and said, "She is going to be alone forever." I love you, Jen, but you need to work on your screening process. Seriously.

With that out of the way, I would just like to thank Diane, Steph, Jace, Christy and Gordo for dragging me out to the bar tonight to have a drink. It made this day so much easier for me, and next year I will be able to say, "Last Valentine's Day was fun." I will also be able to say, "Jace punched me in my no-no spot like 12 times." and "I think I can still see Steph's assprint on the front window." and "Did Christy ever get charged with sexually assaulting that barstool?" I love you guys.

Reflections of a dumpee on Valentine's Day

Love. Romance. Passion. All of these things can be found at my house tonight. But only because they'll be on tonight's episode of "The Bachelorette".

As for me, this is how I will be spending Valentine's Day:
5pm - allergy shots
6:30pm - haircut and highlight
9pm - The Bachelorette
10pm - Medium
11:30pm - go to bed by myself


You might think I'm bitter. Well, you're goddamn right I'm bitter. Today I hate everyone who has a significant other. That includes my parents and my sister. You all suck.

It wouldn't be so bad if my Valentine's Days with B were bad, but they weren't. They were amazing. In 2003-four months into our relationship-he sent me a package full of stuff. Candy, a teddy bear, a CD, a chick flick, etc. Plus he sent me flowers at work and then came to visit me. Last year we went to Ocean City, MD to stay at his aunt's condo on the beach. I woke up on Valentine's Day morning to a flower arrangement he made himself, McDonald's breakfast and homemade chocolate covered strawberries. He used dark chocolate because it's my favorite, and then in white chocolate he wrote out "I LOVE YOU" on them. Dammit that's fucking awesome.

Oh well-it's really not a big deal. My hairdresser said that she and I could eat chocolate together tonight so that will be fun. Plus I have a lot of people who love me. I am a very lucky person. Valentine's Day really doesn't mean much in the grand scheme of things.

If anyone needs me I'll be getting drunk in the ladies room.

Meet Henry

Sorry I was M.I.A. this weekend. I was busy babysitting my dog. Well, actually, he's the family dog, and he lives with my parents. His name is Henry, and he is so sweet and smart and conveniently travel-sized. Plus he loves to cuddle, and that works out because if you remember I am currently looking to hire a cuddler. In addition to being awesome, he is-literally-the cutest dog in the entire world. Look-I know your dog is cute, too. I'm not denying that in any way or trying to downplay his or her cuteness. But seriously:

Some comments on the Grammy's:

1. I would totally have Nelly's baby.
2. Green Day rules.
3. Hearing "Sweet Home Alabama" makes me want to be a cowgirl.
4. Seeing Matthew McConnaughey makes me want to be a cowgirl.
5. If I saw a guy on the street in a tight, shiny, maroon shirt with sparkly flowers on the front with it unbuttoned halfway down to his belly button, I would laugh really hard, out loud, in his face. But when I see Tim McGraw in the same shirt, I want to rip it off him and do him right there in the street.
6. Is it just me or is Joan Rivers slowly starting to resemble her character from "Spaceballs"?

Friday, February 11, 2005

Free lunch makes Sarah happy

I just want to thank Erik for buying me lunch today. What a very nice and unexpected surprise! You rule, Erik! Thanks for doing your part to keep the Fat Roll happy. He gets really angry when he's hungry, and nobody wants to be around angry Fat Roll. (Yes my fat roll is a 'he'.)

Thursday, February 10, 2005

I'm suing

I've been having heart palpitations intermittently over the past month, but mostly last night and all day today. Diane just read yesterday that they can actually be caused by a broken heart due to all the stress and lack of proper sleep. That's great. So B literally broke my heart. WTF! Shouldn't I be compensated for this somehow?

"Listen, B, you broke my heart."

"I know. I love Baltimore so much, and I can't ever leave it even though my life will never be what it could be if I was there with you. I'm so sorry."

"No, seriously, it's broken. It's currently not working properly. I'm suing for damages. I think $500,000 and your soul oughta cover it. Thanks."

Things I learned today at work

It's really annoying when the same person comes to your desk approximately 3 times a week, every single week and says, "Hey-what's the number for the fax machine back here again?" Fucking write it down, nimrod!

The song "I Wanna Know" by Joe isn't as sexy when being played on an alto saxophone and a synthesizer.

I can't say the word "visualization".

Accidentally unplugging your monitor more than once a day makes you a moron.

THO is not professional.

Wednesday, February 09, 2005


I had to tape "Lost" tonight because a bunch of us went out to dinner. I just finished watching it (it was amazing), and it got me thinking about how I would react if I was stranded on an island. What would my role be? What skills would I have to offer? Here is what I came up with:

1. Bitching about the beach
2. Reenacting scenes from "Friends" (all seasons)
3. Having a severe allergic reaction to any and all of the greenery and/or animals on the island
4. Procreating with Charlie Salinger. Constantly.

It occurs to me now that maybe I am not well equipped to be a castaway on "Lost" (except for that last one-call me, Charlie!). However, I do have many other valuable skills and talents, such as:

1. Making a 20oz bottle of pop last for 4 days
2. Eating a can of Salt & Vinegar Pringles in 35 seconds.
3. Tripping up stairs.
4. Tripping down stairs.
5. Knowing the words to Def Leppard songs
6. Saying the word "amazing" about 7500 times in a 5 minute conversation
7. Being a master of disguise. For example,
  • When I dance, I look like someone with Down Syndrome.
  • When I run, I look like someone suffering from heart failure. (I know this one works because one time John tried to give me mouth to mouth. The weird thing about that was that I wasn't even running at the time. I was just trying to eat lunch.)

Do you guys think you would survive on a desert island? What skills would you have to offer? If anyone steals my Pringles talent, I'm gonna be pissed.

Tuesday, February 08, 2005

All I need is a pair of wheels

I watched part of "St. Elmo's Fire" tonight, and it reminded me of a few things:
  1. How hard and confusing your mid-20s can be. No one ever tells you that in college.
  2. How effing hot Rob Lowe was/is
  3. How badly I wanted to be part of the Brat Pack back in the 80s. I would've given anything to hang out with Rob, Ally Sheedy, Molly Ringwald, Andrew McCarthy...oh my God Emilio Estevez!!!
  4. How much I still wish I could be part of the Brat Pack. OMG Judd Nelson, Demi Moore, Anthony Michael Hall. I can't deal with this.

Gary Coleman is 37 years old today. 37!!!! Something about that is totally going to give me nightmares tonight.

Today was a bad day. Not because anything bad happened. It's just that my existence since B left is just a series of bad days and better days and sometimes really good days. Today was a bad one for me. Who knows what triggered it. I find it doesn't have to be something big or even logical to spin me into a "bad spell". But what was important about tonight's sadness is that it resulted in a text message from Diane, sent to make me feel better. I think it's a message from which we can all learn an important lesson. Something that can be applied to every situation no matter how dire:

"The best vitamin for a Christian is B1."

Dammit Diane.


In the world of people who are hardcore, I don't exist. I am the complete opposite of badass-me and my friend Fats who brought Brie to a Super Bowl party. Brie! Seriously, Fats, they should revoke your penis.

Anyway, there's a caste system in the World of Hardcore. John, Scott and Erik are total serfs. Peons. They work for my sister who is semi-badass. And up and up you go, getting more and more hardcore. Jennifer Garner. John's dad. Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Dan Graves (unintentionally killed a man and laughed when he told the story). Jack Bauer. Until you get to the King of Hardcore.


P.S. Hopefully I end up near the top of the list of search results for pervs looking for hardcore you-know-what. Hardcore. Hardcore. Hardcore.

About me

Things I do once a day:
- get hit on by a homeless guy
- run into a doorframe
- get ink all over my hands
- catch a glimpse of myself in the reflection of a store window and notice that my pants are too short
- think someone is hiding in my basement
- wish I lived in a house made of french fries

Things I don't do once a day:
- shower

Things I did today that I will never do again as long as I live:
- try a Nutrigrain bar (Seriously why? Why does Kellogg's hate me?)

Monday, February 07, 2005

Super Blow

Howie Long: Thank you for joining us for the Super Bowl Wrap Up show. I'm Howie Long here with Sarah. The Patriots managed to pull it off once again tonight despite a valiant effort by the Eagles. That makes three titles in four years for the Pats. I tell you, Tom Brady couldn't be hotter than he is right now. What do you think, Sarah?

Sarah: Well, yeah he's pretty hot. I mean, personally I think Steve Young was the hottest quarterback in the NFL. Actually he's still pretty cute. Is he here?

HL: Actually, Sarah, I meant that Brady was hot in terms of his career.

Sarah: Sure, yeah. (pause) You know who else is hot? Brett Favre. I'd like me some of him.

HL: Right. So let's talk about the Pats defense--

Sarah: And Lardiss is really hot.

HL: Lardiss? What team is he on?

Sarah: Oh he's not in the NFL. He's my friend. He was at the same party as me.

HL: Okay...

Sarah: Actually you're kinda cute, too, Howie. But maybe lose the flat top. I mean it is 2005, and you're not actually a football player anymore. Unless you call crappy Radio Shack commercials football.

HL: Ummm...

Sarah: Speaking of commercials, they kinda sucked this year. I'm disappointed. The P. Diddy commercial was ridiculous. Hey-since apparently we all want to be like him and do everything he does, maybe we should start ripping off everyone else's music and rapping badly over it. What do you think? Plus, does Carson Daly really improve sales? Or does he really just make us all want to kill ourselves? Honestly, Pepsi. I'm disappointed. The MC Hammer Nationwide ad was genius, and I will say that I enjoyed the ads. Monkeys in suits--that's gold, Jerry!

HL: Okay I think I'm going to go find Terry Bradshaw.

Sarah: Monkeys!! In suits!!! Ahahahahahahahaha!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Saturday, February 05, 2005

I have a drinking problem

Imagine my surprise when I came to this site today and saw that last night someone had desecrated my blog with a drunken, mostly unintelligible post. Then imagine that surprise slowly turning into realization as I remembered sitting down at the computer last night to write the greatest post ever, and then triumphantly signing off, confident I had completed what I set out to do. I'm so sorry, Internet. I was three sheets to the wind last night. It was a birthday party for Drew and Kevin, and I certainly enjoyed myself. Sorry to have been drinking and blogging. That is so irresponsible. If it's any consolation, my body hates me today. I have wine hangover headache, and it is seemingly incurable. Tonight I am back in old lady mode: in my pajamas at 9pm, eating ice cream, watching TV and reading my new Better Homes and Gardens. Loser!

Speaking of which, the Home and Garden show was at the IX Center today. For those of you who aren't from Cleveland, the IX Center is an absolutely ginormous warehouse where a lot of trade shows come each year (i.e., the car show, wedding shows, sports card shows, etc.). This weekend it's the Home and Garden show. I decided to go with my parents since I am about to be a new homeowner, and going to a Home and Garden show seems like something a homeowner would do. There are 40 aisles of booths and booths of vendors. Most of it is home or garden related. But a good portion of it is just people trying to sell you stuff that has nothing to do with owning a home, for example, crappy homemade jewelry and parrot food.

All in all, it was a lot of fun and really great hanging out with my parents. For those of you who are wondering, yes they did buy me dinner (and lunch). Here is what I learned today:

  • Mullet sightings are still funny
  • People will buy anything
  • I am not someone who feels the need to wear clothing emblazoned with images of the American flag to show my patriotism
  • Most wasteful use of windshield decals: featured in 8 inch letters on the windshield of an older model Honda Prelude: PRELUDE
  • Any amount of money is too much to spend on clothing for a ceramic goose

I love you

i just want to say that i love you gusy a lot. i wne t to a party todnight for drew and kevin and i drank wine and some jello shots. it wa sso good. i'm sorry if i talk about dumb stuff on this blog a lot but you guys are so nice to read this and sa;y nice things to me. i'm aobut to pass out so i have to sign off for now. i love wine and i love you. you guys should be wasterd right now like me. YOu proabaly are. I love you guys. I probably shouldn't of driven myselgf home even though it was only a few streets. Drinking and drving is baaaaaadd!!!!!!!!! Goodnights.

P.S. I wore a cowboy hat tonight andit looked not too good but i did datnce to PAula Abdul. We come together cuz opposites attract.

Friday, February 04, 2005

Smells like teen spirit

This post started out as a rant about pantyhose. I was going to mention that they are useless unless you are robbing a bank and then wittily go into how now apparently they are creating pantyhose with a purpose because L'eggs has created a line called Sheer Vitality that is supposed to promote leg health. We were all going to get a big laugh about how ridiculous that is and how if they really wanted to make pantyhose more useful they could include some kind of homeless man repellant because when I wear skirts and pantyhose I can't walk across the street without hearing how nice and presentable I look in my skirt. And by that I mean that I hear this: "Mm-hmm, baby! I like whatch you wearin'! You show somma dat leg, girl! How's about you come here so's we can spend some time?" Then I was going to point out that if it sounds like I'm bragging I'm really not because I am the furthest thing from sexy except for when I am pulling a dolly with a box of crap and the handle comes off and everything spills out all across the street, and I bend down to pick it up and my purse is open and then all of that stuff spills all over the street. Plus stop being so jealous about me getting hit on by homeless men. Geez.

Anyway, in my quest for a good quote about what Sheer Vitality will do for your leg health, I found this:

Ummmm.....huh? I mean I guess there is a market for everything as evidenced by the fact that "Small Wonder" was on TV for 4 years. But....seriously?


Thursday, February 03, 2005

Movin' on up

For those of you who don't know, on Saturday I signed a contract for a condo. Well, it's technically an attached cluster home because I will own the land, but you better believe I won't be sowing it or tilling it or whatever the hell you do with land. Someone does all of that for you. Plus a man will plow my driveway for a fee, and I mean that in the most literal sense, you sickos. If I was being perverted I would've used quotes, like "plow my driveway".

Anyway, I will be building it which is great because I get to pick out all my own stuff like cabinets, flooring, carpet, etc, and also because everything will be brand spanking new.

I have been extremely lucky as far as the places I have lived in since graduating from college. The first place I lived in after college was great because it was free, and I didn't have to make my own meals. But the landlords did tell me to wear a jacket a lot and to call them if I thought I was going to be really late. My parents are really tough that way. Then I moved to Lakewood with a couple girlfriends to a terrific apartment. I was there for 3 and a half years. The last year and a half was spent mostly in my room on the phone with B. Then B moved here last April, and we got a place a few streets away, and you all know what happened 8 months later (abandoning bastard). This apartment is also great, and I enjoy living here with my roommate...I mean TV. With both this apartment and the last, I have been honestly blessed with the greatest landlords known to western civilization. They are unbelievably nice and care about me as a person, and I just couldn't ask for more.

That being said, now that I know I am buying a brand new place, everything that used to be kind of annoying is now the biggest most horrible inconvenience on Earth, and I am going to lose my mind if I have to stay here one more second.

1. Vinyl flooring. I am so sick of effing vinyl flooring. It peels up, people! My new place comes with vinyl flooring, but I am totally upgrading that shit to ceramic tile. I don't care how much it costs. I am absolutely willing to whore myself out to earn money for tile.

2. Refrigerator. The history timeline of refrigeration goes like this: keeping stuff in a cave --> ice chest --> my fridge. I can't believe it is even safe to own a refrigerator this old. The one drawer it has is very useful because when I put stuff in it, it falls out. The top shelf holds like a whole quart of milk. The rest of the space is being used by the world's largest light bulb. Seriously. I'm thinking about selling tickets to tourists to come and see it. Does anyone know how I can get it into an AAA book as a recommended roadside stop?

3. No garage. I cannot even begin to describe how awful it is to not have a garage in the middle of winter in Cleveland. I need a dogsled just to get to my car in the morning, and then I need to sit in my car for a half hour waiting for it to thaw so I can see to drive. Sometimes I don't wait, and I try to do that thing where you have one little patch of clear space in the bottom left hand corner of the windshield, and you contort your body just to see out of it then you get in a car accident and the airbag snaps your neck in two because your head is directly in front of it instead of where it should be.

4. Living upstairs. I live upstairs because Mr. HatesLeavingHisGirlfriend wanted to, and now I have to make 37 trips up the stairs anytime I go grocery shopping not to mention hop on my dogsled each time I head back to my car or head from my car back to the house.

5. No air conditioning. Do I really have to elaborate on this?

When I get my new place, you're all invited over for drinks. And maybe we'll throw stuff at Danielle.

P.S. I don't really like to be serious about stuff, but this is important. Go to this site: and sign a petition to pass the Breast Cancer Patient Protection Act which will require insurance companies to cover a minimum 48-hour hospital stay for patients undergoing a mastectomy. It's about eliminating the "drive-through mastectomy" where women are forced to go home hours after surgery against the wishes of their doctor, still groggy from anesthesia and sometimes with drainage tubes still attached. It will only take you 2 seconds to do this so do it!

If hearing about drainage tubes still being attached to someone's body doesn't force you to take action then you are dead inside.


Hey, did you guys catch the State of the Union last night? Yeah neither did I. On to important things...

Oh my God, you guys. Okay I don't want to get everyone's hopes up, but today I heard that Brad and Jennifer have recently been seen canoodling all around town. Canoodling! I don't know what that means, but every time 2 famous people are seen canoodling it means they are also diddling, and we all know what that means. I also heard that a source close to them said, "They have never been closer than they are right now." I don't want to get too excited but OH MY GOD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I also heard that Michael Moore has been calling all these big Hollywood stars to ask them to get him tickets to the Oscars (people like Jack Nicholson, etc.), but no one will even call him back!! This gives me endless amounts of joy as I hate Michael Moore. And it has nothing to do with politics-I've already spoken about how politics are of little importance to me. It has to do with him being a giant dillhole.

What is the deal with McDonald's using sharks to sell Filet-o-Fish sandwiches? Seriously I didn't think I could hate the Filet-o-Fish more, but apparently I was wrong.

To the lady who pushed me out of the way (literally) to get off the elevator first and then walked up to the door and waited for me to get out my security keycard without making any attempt to get out her own: is there anything else I can do for you? Get you some coffee? Pick up your dry cleaning? Shine your shoes? Cuz this is all about you.

Tuesday, February 01, 2005

Today's observations

1. If you don't watch "Scrubs" you're a moron. I understand this statement does mean I am calling some of my friends and family members morons. So be it. Watch the show if you don't want to be a moron.

2. Topher Grace should be in every movie.

3. Today Rachael Ray made a frittata (not to be confused with Nelly Furtado), and twice she used the word "eggscellent" to describe it. Listen, Rachael, I love you, but I will not hesitate to kill you.

4. The biggest surprises in the news today are as follows:
I'm sorry if I offend anyone with that last one. I just wasn't entirely sure he was still alive. He's young, you guys. Don't worry about my soul being damned for all eternity-I'm not Catholic so it's cool to ridicule the sick and elderly. Also if I'm going to be damned for anything it would be laughing at the South Park episode where they make fun of the Special Olympics.

5. Bathroom observations
  • At my first visit in the morning, someone went into the stall next to me and started--how can I say this gently so as not to offend your delicate sensibilities--diarrheaing all over the goddamn place. I'm sorry to have to tell you that, but you are not the one who had to hear it so quit your whining. Let's just say I didn't finish zipping up my pants before I ran out of the stall.
  • On my second visit in the afternoon, 3 out of the 4 stalls I went into had unflushed toilets. Seriously, ladies, let's share our work accomplishments, not our bathroom "accomplishments".
  • On the way back to my desk after the second visit, I saw a girl in a pretty blue skirt and a nice white shirt and what can only be described as a furry black tophat. I just really don't know what to say about that.

28 year old child I am 28 years old, and my mom has to call my mortgage guy because I don't understand what's going on, and apparently I am not asking him the right questions or something. When I talk to him I totally get it, but when I talk to my mom, and she says, "Well what about so and so? Did you ask him about that?" I'm like, "What? No-you didn't tell me to ask him that. What does that even mean?" So right now she is calling him. I could not be more helpless. I'm actually worried about one day being a mother because my kids will learn nothing from me except how to call my parents and ask them to do everything.

Please, Internet, help me become more self-sufficient. I don't want to be one of those women who can't take care of themselves. See-I am even asking for your help to help me learn to help myself. Also while you guys are helping me become self-sufficient, can you make me dinner and teach me how to tell if my pilot light is off? That would be great. Thanks.