Thursday, September 29, 2005


This week I know 2 people who got engaged (not to each other), 1 who got married and 1 who found out she is pregnant. All these life events happening around me got me thinking about what I accomplished this week:

- Sucked at football
- Bought "The Muppet Show: Season 1" on DVD
- Allergy shots
- Came in late to work every day
- Saw the Indians lose
- Accidentally stabbed myself in the eye
- Stuffed myself with stir fry from Mongolian BBQ
- Sucked at volleyball
- Accidentally scratched my forehead
- Made fun of Diane
- Wished harm on every single person on the road
- Wore grandma shoes to work (today)
- Got up on a rolling desk chair to inspect my bathroom fan because of a "scary noise" and almost immediately fell to the ground because the chair rolled out from underneath me

In addition to all of this I had not one but two migraines. Who's list is longer? No-good luck with your marriages and babies I'm just saying it sounds like that's all you can handle at one time. Some of us are just better multitaskers I guess.

P.S. Holy crap, "Lost". Look when I watch the show I am already at extremely high stress levels, okay? There was absolutely no need to throw the shark in there. Are you trying to kill me?

Tuesday, September 27, 2005


Sarah's running low on blog material so it's time to reach back into the archives to share some childhood memories. Tonight I will be featuring some of my finest artwork. I call it: Sarah's Artwork.

Here is my personal interpretation of Santa Claus. I made this when I was in Kindergarten. Please note the giant eyes, miniature mouth and Hitler moustache.

Here is my owl made out of egg cartons. Also Kindergarten. Apparently owls have eyebrows that they can use to stab you if you get out of line. I don't know what that gunk is by his beak. Probably snot.

I drew this in third grade. This is an eggplant. You can tell because next to it, it says, "This is an eggplant." Is it just me or is this the most terrifying eggplant you've ever seen? It's like an eggplant that you might find in "Invasion of the Body Snatchers".

Here's another one I made in third grade. It's my self portrait. Even back then I knew I would end up a coked out whore with herpes simplex 2 and a body wave.

Fourth grade. This is what haunts your dreams at night. It will come to life later, go over to your house and stare at you through your window. Don't make any sudden movements when you see it. And don't mind it's chanting and glowing red eyes.

Here is a "paper" I wrote about Native Americans. I think this was fifth grade. Please check out my cover art. I chose to go with the multi-colored Crayola markers and awful, offensive rendering of an American Indian. Although this is nothing compared to what I drew on the inside:

Nice. That thing behind the Indian is apparently some sort of shelter, though it really just looks like I drew a log going through that guy's head. If there are any Native Americans reading this, I'm sorry.

This is the pillow I sewed in eighth grade Home Economics. It's an ice cream cone. It also took me 3 times as long to make it as it took everyone else in the class to make theirs. Goddammit I hated that class. One of our tests consisted entirely of sewing on a button and a snap to a piece of fabric. That's it. I got a D. The pre-pubescent 14 year old boy sitting next to me got an A. The only other person who did worse than me was this guy Ed who used to drive to eighth grade and who missed the test because a girl drove up to the school in a convertible, and he walked out of school in the middle of class, hopped into the convertible without using the door and drove off.

I will leave you with an inspirational haiku I wrote in second grade:

Spring is very nice
It brings lots of blossoms here
The blossoms are nice

Thursday, September 22, 2005

I shouldn't even have to be posting this

I was recently informed of some alarming news: only 20% of men wash their hands after going to the bathroom. 20%!! Come on, men-this is basic pre-school shit. I mean I knew you were filthy, but this is ridiculous. I've heard all the excuses: it's not the same as it is for women, I don't have to wipe, etc. That's all BS. Let's lay out the possible peeing scenarios here:

1. Holding your twig. Guess what? He's not clean. He's dripping pee not to mention the fact that he's tucked inside with your sweaty berries all day. How would you like it if you watched me shove my hands down my pants and then shook your hand? Don't answer that. Just wash your hands.

2. The wall-leaner. Number 1, you're weird and other guys make fun of you and call you Wall Leaner Guy or No Hands, and now everyone at work is calling you that. Believe me. Number 2, you think the walls in those bathrooms are clean? Hello--heard of splashing? You all do it. I have gone into a bathroom before after a guy has peed, and it was like a category 5 hurricane had been in there-Hurricane Urethra flooding everything in its path with urine*. Sorry-the walls aren't clean. And oh my God if you're holding on to the sides of the urinal, you're just a moron, and I will give you a swirley after gym class. Wash your hands.

3. Hands on waist. While this is definitely impressive, it's even more creepy than being a wall-leaner. People at work are calling you No Hands, too, and they are looking you up in the national sex offender registry. Seriously. Plus you have to touch the little guy before and after peeing, yes? Yes. Refer to #1. Wash your hands.

For the health of others, wash your hands. For your own health, wash your hands. For me, so that I don't have to wonder if everything within a 10 foot radius of you is covered in urine, WASH. YOUR. GOD. DAMN. HANDS.

*I am not trying to be insensitive with my hurricane reference. I'm just trying to keep my posts topical.

P.S. I hate everyone who told me that Yoplait Whips were better than regular yogurt. "It doesn't even really taste like yogurt!" you said. Actually you're right-it doesn't take like yogurt. It tastes like what I would imagine that foamy shit that gathers around the edges of the Cuyahoga River would taste. You all suck. Whips suck.

Letters for September 22, 2005

Dear ABC and creators of "Lost",
You guys owe me some new underwear as I completely soiled mine during last night's episode. How in the hell do you do it week after week? You are amazing. I will make out with you.

Dear skin,
Hi. You're not 13 so let's stop it with the zits, mkay? I swear to God I will Noxema your ass right now if you don't shape up.

Dear guy at volleyball who tried to block my shot but I totally stuffed your ass,
You should be ashamed of yourself. Have you seen me play volleyball? I am terrible. You basically got stuffed by a mildly retarded, overweight bag of jello with a 3 inch vertical leap. Pathetic.

Dear Rita,
Holy shit, bitch. What is your problem? First of all, quit trying to be Katrina, okay? She doesn't like copycats. Second of all, if it was possible to punch a hurricane, I would punch you right in your goddamn eye. If anyone is left in Texas, GET THE HELL OUT OF THERE! I'll try to send more money after my next paycheck. You guys will need S & V Pringles, too.

Dear Martha Stewart,
There has been a lot of speculation about what your final words would be to the losing contestant on "The Apprentice: Martha Stewart". Donald has his "You're fired", and the entire world was waiting with bated breath to hear what you would say. By "the entire world" I mean the media who doesn't have an effing clue what any of us really care about (getting a 4th "Mighty Ducks" movie made). After last night's premiere, it's a mystery no more. And what did you choose to go with? "Goodbye." WHOA!!! Easy, Martha!! I have no idea how you came up with "Goodbye" to bid someone goodbye, but goddamn that's clever.

Dear bed,
I would pay any amount of money to be in you right now.

Wednesday, September 21, 2005

Holy crap "Lost" is on tonight

- "Lost" starts tonight, and I am so excited I can barely concentrate on work. Who are The Others? Where is Walt and why did they take him??? Holy shit WHAT IS DOWN THE HATCH???? I cannot deal with this.

- This weekend we won our football game even though the other team was really mean. I totally got elbowed/forearmed in the head and fell over like a ton of bricks. You know how some sports injuries make you hotter to the opposite sex? Yeah not this one. This one was just a disaster as I laid in the mud and held my head whimpering. Somehow I also landed on my cleat, and I have a humongous bruise on the side of my knee. Don't tell my dad okay. He doesn't want me to be playing football.
Other injuries incurred on Saturday:
Bob - pulled hamstring. Bob caught a pass and was running down the field then someone pushed him hard out of bounds. It was raining so his leg slipped, and he pulled his hamstring. Highlight of this injury: right before he got hurt as he was running, his pants fell down. Runner up highlight of this injury: while Bob was down on the ground Drew said, "Oh my God-he's leaking gravy!!"
Steph - bruised browbone. Steph caught an elbow to her eye. Highlight of this injury: it happened after the football game at the bar.

- Lately I have been taking crap for not updating the blog every 3 minutes. The thing is, the people complaining are people who know me and people who I see at least once a week-usually much more than that. What is the deal, people? When we are out together no one is this interested in hearing what I have to say.

- There is a church near my house that I pass on my way home from work everyday. They always have these crazy sayings on their light up billboard so I've decided to start a regular feature here on Okay Seriously. I will call it: Crazy Church Billboard Sayings. I proudly present the first installment of Crazy Church Billboard Sayings with this gem:


Tuesday, September 20, 2005

Dinner party

5 Reasons why I am awesome:
1. I had off today.
2. I cooked dinner tonight. For a total of SEVEN PEOPLE.
3. My house is still standing and no one was killed.
4. I had candlesticks on the table and a for real tablecloth.
5. I made mashed potatoes from scratch. Some people use a hand mixer. Me-I mash that shit by hand. That's just how I roll.

5 reasons why I am not awesome:
1. I cut myself using kitchen shears and now it really stings. And it's not like using kitchen shears is any different than using regular scissors which means I shouldn't really be allowed to use scissors.
2. I wore a tiara the entire time I cooked. And also throughout the entire dinner party.
3. I burnt the rolls. Fucking rolls, people. Out of a tube.
4. Even though no one was killed, there was a maiming. It's not entirely my fault, though I think not having discerning taste when it comes to buying a set of knives maybe played a part. My knives actually are the worst knives on the planet and couldn't even cut through watermelon. As a result, blood was shed, bandaids were used, complaining was NEVERENDING. We get it, Diane-your finger hurts. My knives are bad. Point taken. Seriously though if your finger turns green, you should probably go see someone about that.
5. Without going into detail, somehow an unused tampon ended up being a central theme to my dinner party.

All in all I give my party an A-. Points were taken off for Diane's bloody finger and burnt rolls. However, points were added for Drew eating in a wifebeater.

Friday, September 16, 2005

I tried to watch the prez last night but got bored

Renee Zellweger and Kenny Chesney are getting an annulment. This would have the same impact on me as Brad and Jen except for one small thing...I don't care. Maybe Renee realized that you're not really supposed to make it with Kenny. You're just supposed to rock out to "I Go Back" cuz that song effing rules.

I read this article yesterday in the Cleveland Scene that said we set up housing for 1,000 Katrina victims. Each person would get a free medical exam, a bunch of necessities and a cot at the Convention Center until apartments could be found for them with new furniture, etc. Also each family would have its own caseworker and community volunteer to help them find employment. Then FEMA suspended the flights here because no one wanted to come here. Yes, that's right. Those people would rather sit in the water filled with dead bodies and alligators than come to Cleveland. I almost feel like I should call up B and apologize. "You were right, B. I guess even deadly bacteria is more appealing than Cleveland." I guess they are going to force 500 people to come here. This is ridiculous. To those that refused shelter here: I'm so sorry for the tragic loss you've suffered and that the road ahead of you is long and hard. And I know that you had absolutely no choice whatsoever about your current situation-it was just an awful, awful tragedy. I know this isn't home and will never be home for you, but get your fucking priorities straight. And to the mayor of Cleveland: how come you don't offer the same deal for the people right here who are living on your streets? Okay that is as political as I'm willing to get.

Last night I had flashbacks from Sunday when we were tailgating. I remember I had to pee really bad, and as we were walking into the stadium we passed a fire hydrant, and I'm fairly sure as we passed it Matt and I both lifted a leg. We didn't pee, but still-we lifted a leg at a fire hydrant in public. Alcohol may have been a factor. Matt, can you confirm that this really happened? And was I wearing my trucker hat? Also can you confirm that no one saw us? Dear God I hope no one saw us.

Thursday, September 15, 2005

I smell bacon

I got pulled over this morning. I was completely taken by surprise. I knew I wasn't speeding because the jackwad in front of me WASN'T EFFING MOVING!!! I thought maybe it was for tailgating since I was essentially up jackwad's tailpipe because apparently it's difficult to drive and totally suck as a person at the same time, and he chose to suck.

Anyway, the cop pulled me over and told me it was for running a stop sign. I was pissed. The intersection where I turn out of my neighborhood has a stop sign, and I usually roll through it, but I didn't today. I swear. Then he told me it was for the stop sign before that one-the one in my neighborhood. Ah. Yes that explains it. I don't even acknowledge that one. In fact, I probably sped up when I saw it due to my assertion that it is completely useless.

Luckily my friend Mike is a cop, and he had given me an F.O.P. card which is the first thing I grabbed out of my wallet when I saw the police lights turn on. The guy let me go with a warning, and then I gave him a warning: I'm gonna go ram that jackwad's rear bumper up there. No I didn't say that...out loud.

Thank you for saving my ass, Mike!!!

Wednesday, September 14, 2005

Tagged by Shop Dungs

I got tagged by John, and I was too tired to post last night so this is what you get. Sorry.

7 Things I Plan to do Before I Die:
1. Have kids
2. Go to Paris
3. See a live taping of Conan O'Brien
4. Learn how to ice skate
5. Own a Lexus
6. Win the lottery and pay off my parents' house and buy my sister one
7. Date Tom Cruise and convert to Scientology

7 Things I Can Do:
1. Sing
2. Annoy people
3. Walk through a 45 million foot wide doorway and still manage to run into the doorframe and bruise my arm
4. Touch my nose with my tongue
5. Pitch a softball
6. Drive stickshift
7. Eat a can of Salt & Vinegar Pringles in 35 seconds

7 Things I Cannot Do:
1. Hair (I stole this from Toren)
2. Say the word "visualization"
3. Cook
4. Waterski
5. Stop talking
6. Get in the ocean without panicking and/or crying
7. Eat shrimp. It feels like you are biting into a finger. Seriously.

7 Things That Attract me to the Opposite (or same) Sex:
1. Sense of humor
2. Strong vital signs
3. Nice smile and arms
4. Ambitious (and doesn't care that I'm really not)
5. Good storyteller
6. Likes football-not necessarily to play (though this is a bonus) but definitely to watch
7. I can take him to a party with a bunch of people he doesn't really know and go off by myself without having to worry about him.

7 Things That I Say Most Often:
1. Dammit
2. You're fine
3. Okay seriously
4. God I hate you
5. I will punch you in the [fill in body part here]
6. I seriously don't have time for this
7. That will be $50. Now put your pants back on and get out. (Just kidding, Mom)

7 Celebrity Crushes:
1. Conan O'Brien
2. Ben Affleck
3. Will Ferrell
4. Steve Carell
5. Ryan Reynolds
6. Vince Vaughn
7. Matthew Fox

7 People I Want To Do This:
Yeah I don't feel like listing out people to do this (refer to my lack of ambition noted above).

Tuesday, September 13, 2005

Does every junior high kid suck?

When we were in junior high the PTA had us fill out these questionnaires about ourselves that would get mailed back to us a year later. They were part of the drug and alcohol awareness week program-trying to get kids to focus on their future goals and remind them what's important to them blah blah blah.

Here is the one I filled out on October 25, 1990 which puts me at age 13 and in 8th grade. I just know I will lose readership because of this. It is that dorky.

My answers-things I actually wrote-are in green.

Dear Sarah,

I am writing this letter today, during National Awareness Week, to be sent to myself one year from today. It will reflect current trends, my feelings and opinions.

I would like to be a successful actress.

I wish my family would lighten up and live forever.

At school I'm horribly popular (idea from Kim J.).

My friends are really cool and nice and sweet and they care about me. No really they are geeks.

My favorite music/group is New Kids on the Block.

Children would be better off if they stayed away from drugs.

I need to work on school and acting.

Drinking is for buttholes and it's stupid.

Where do you see yourself one year from today? What is one thing you would like to accomplish by then? I would like to be acting in movies and to be a famous actress. I also want a boyfriend. I would like to be in a love scene with Socket Wrench [Ed. note: I will explain this in a minute].

Discuss how you feel about chemical usage...commitments of your own, opinions about others. Chemical usage is for dopes (Ha Ha! Get it??) Anyways, it's really stupid. I'll never, ever do drugs or drink or smoke. I think people who do that crap are just killing themselves.

P.S. I heart Jeff-from guess who? [Ed. note: the aforementioned Kim J. wrote this on there]

Um...loser? To recap: It is 15 years later, and I have completely let down my 13 year old self by drinking enough for 6 average-sized adults on a weekly basis. In addition I have completely failed in accomplishing any of my goals:

1. I am quite possibly the worst actress in the free world.
2. I did have a boyfriend a year later, but I dumped him then watched him date one of my friends, became raging jealous and somehow ended up going to 10th grade Homecoming with a drug dealer in a bid to win him back.
3. Socket Wrench is my code name for this guy who went to my junior high. He was older than me, but in the class behind me so clearly I was attracted to him for his mind. Also he fought a lot. Obviously I was in love with him. The closest I came to doing a love scene with him was when HE ASKED ME OUT AT MY 10 YEAR REUNION 2 WEEKS AGO!!!!! (Sidenote: the weirdest part about that whole situation is this: what the hell was he doing at my reunion? He didn't graduate the same year as me. Diane said that maybe it's because at one point in time he was actually a part of my class.)

13 year old Sarah totally thinks I'm a butthole. At least I don't make bad puns, you little brat.

Sunday, September 11, 2005

Are you ready for some football?

This weekend was all about football. Saturday afternoon was our first game of the fall season, and you'll all be happy to know we are just as good as we used to be. And that's horrible. We lost by a lot, but it was really fun. The guys are big into what I call The Wristband Movement. I'm sure you've seen this before-guys wearing fabric wristbands even when they are going out in public as if it is normal and not something from Olivia Newton John's "Let's Get Physical" video. I don't understand this fashion statement, but rather than fight it, all the ladies decided to join in-at least for football. When I was putting mine on I said to Diane, "Okay so where is this supposed to go? Like where on your arm is it cool to wear it?" And she said, "Nowhere. There is not one place on your arm where it is cool to wear a wristband." Awesome. Oh we also wear headbands. H-O-T.

Saturday night we went to a bar to watch the Ohio State game. Steph and Paul went to law school there so they are ridiculously obsessed. Needless to say, they did not come away happy Saturday night after OSU's loss. Watching OSU football games with Steph is not what you would categorize as "fun" but more like "terrifying". It got really hairy when about 10 minutes into the game Abby, Steph's best friend in the whole world, said, "So wait-are we red?" I just want to say to Abby that you are awesome, and you're also lucky Steph is still talking to you. Oh and PS the Steelers suck.

Also Diane and I decided we had a new pet peeve—people who paint their faces to watch a football game…at a bar. Hi-you're not actually at the game, jackhole. You're at BW3. Cool factor = 0.

Today we got up at the buttcrack of dawn and went tailgating for the Browns home opener. It was really fun except for the fact that we were basically sitting inside the core of the Earth. At least that's what it felt like. The Browns lost, but I still had fun. Although a 10 year old did kick my ass at cornhole. Twice.

I bought a $5 hat in the parking lot because I wanted to shield my face from the sun. Then our seats were in the shade the whole game (thank God). Yet somehow this is what I look like right now:

I am so burnt. I mean look at that-you can barely even distinguish my lipstick.

I would very quickly like to say something to Cleveland Browns fans. Listen-I love this city. And I love the Browns. But I hate 95% of all of you Browns fans.
1 – you're fair-weather
2 – you're mean drunks
3 – you give Cleveland a bad name
When I was in high school, nobody acted as immature and rude at football games as you guys do. Throwing shit at fans of the other team? You are adults, people. Act like it. Cleveland Browns fans are some of the most passionate fans in the league, and that's a fact. But that passion can-and usually does-quickly turn ugly, and I don't like the way it makes us look to the rest of the country. So just effing stop it. You're embarrassing me.

P.S. Baltimore Ravens suck it.

Thursday, September 08, 2005

Good news, bad news

Good news: Grandma is feeling much better. She will probably get to leave the hospital tomorrow. She has a rare form of arthritis that causes a lot of pain but is treatable with steroids and will go away completely in about a year. I'm so happy they have a name for it and that she won't be in any more pain.
Bad news: By "rare" I mean that there is like a 95% chance I will get it rather than the usual 100% chance.

Good news: My puppy Henry is coming to stay with me for a few days while my parents go on vacation.
Bad news: I have no grass and therefore will have to alienate my new neighbors by allowing Henry to go to the bathroom in their yard. Maybe I can use this to my advantage and train Henry to write out "Hi! I'm your new neighbor!" in poop. Oh my God you guys are sick.

Good news: I'm on my treadmill!
Bad news: It's not running because it came without one of its parts. Some stupid 5 year old in Thailand must've forgotten to put it in there. Damn kids. If I've said it once, I've said it a million times: you cannot trust kids to build your exercise equipment. They should really be used only for clothing and tennis shoes.

Wednesday, September 07, 2005

Letters for September 7, 2005

Dear Steve Carrell,
You are amazing. I am a devoted fan and follower for life. Watching you come back as a guest on "The Daily Show" was just about the greatest thing these eyes have ever seen. I will marry you and have your babies.

Dear air conditioning guys,
I hate you. Seriously-I harbor homicidal feelings toward you.

Dear Woody Allen,
I finally saw "Hannah and Her Sisters" yesterday, and I just wanted to tell you that I think this finally seals it: you suck. And watching you make out was painful and nauseating.

Dear everyone who takes 71N to get to 480 in the morning around 8-8:30,
I didn't realize it was possible for so many people to be assholes at one time. Fucking let me over. Bitches.

Dear ladies,
I know I'm a little bit behind on this one, but some of you are still wearing these. What is up with the shorts with the writing on the butt? I don't really get the appeal of these shorts, and, frankly, if you have a daughter younger than 16 wearing shorts that say "Sexy" or "Flirt", you should be shot. Girls, you don't need to give dirty old men another reason to stare and be creepy. If you're going to wear them, at least wear something a little more respectable-maybe even educational. I saw a girl walking yesterday, and she had ones on that said "Palms". Yes, it could've been for the Palms Hotel, but for all I know it also could've been a pointer for her more make-out-challenged gentlemen callers. As in "Palms go here". I think I will buy a pair that has "The DaVinci Code" in its entirety written on them. It will definitely fit. That way guys can stare at my butt AND get in some light reading.

Dear Grandma,
I know you are probably going crazy not being able to bake cookies for your grandchildren or cook for the neighborhood or send me happy email forwards and "Thinking of You" cards, but you need to rest. I know you are thinking of me, and I want you to know I am thinking of you even more. Don't worry-Mom is there. She will make sure the doctors figure out what is going on. Hopefully you won't have to eat hospital food much longer. If I was there I would try to sneak you in some chocolate chip cookies and Jello Jigglers. Please get better soon. I love you so much.

Monday, September 05, 2005

Labor Day

An update on my diet
This weekend I bought two things: a treadmill and a scale. The former is barely going to fit into my house, and I definitely didn't have the money for it, but I am really excited about it. As I mentioned, I also bought a scale. That's right-the enemy is among us. This was really a big step for me seeing as if I had my choice I would throw all existing scales into a pile, cover them with gasoline and light up the skies. This may sound extreme, but let me at least plead my case. Scales hate me. They are really mean and tell me I am fat all the time. So do mirrors, but the only reason I don't burn them is because I need them to pluck my eyebrows.

But I digress. I bought a goddamn scale, but I didn't use it right away. I just stared at it, and it stared back at me. Finally I decided just to give it a go. If we go by what I weighed at the doctor's a month ago, and what my stupid new scale says, I have lost 8 lbs. In my opinion, there is no way in hell that is right especially since using 2 different scales is like comparing apples to oranges, but I am totally counting it. Suck it, Fat Roll. You too, Giant Ass.

Before I go, can we quickly talk about my friend Steph? Steph is a complicated woman. She has two sides. The first is the one whose compassion for people less fortunate than her knows absolutely no bounds. It comes from a place deep inside that will never be satisfied with sitting on the sidelines or just doing the bare minimum. It's this compassion that has resulted in her volunteering to go down to New Orleans to help set up a temporary medical facility for those in need (she is the chief compliance officer for a hospital). The first crew they sent down there essentially were taken hostage, and therefore Steph's trip has been postponed, but her resolve hasn't wavered. For purely selfish reasons, I do not want her to go. The thought of something happening to her down there makes me sick to my stomach. But I also know that there's no talking Steph out of anything if she has her mind set on it, and that there is something inside of her that makes it utterly impossible for her to not go. She has a need and a passion I'll never understand and always envy.

Then there is the Steph who was the only drunk person at Jace's party tonight. The one who flashed us, danced on each of our laps, crawled around on the ground, threw a chair, made me go to the bathroom with her and bit Woody on the ass. The one who called her sister in Vegas and told her she was "servicing" Jace then hung up on her. I love both Stephs, but Jesus this one is way more fun.

Thursday, September 01, 2005

I can't even believe I had friends

I used to keep diaries in 10th grade for the main purpose of recording every single excruciating detail about Dave L.'s and my forbidden romance. And by "romance" I mean my obsession with and subsequent pining for him.

I found them last night, and thought it would be fun to read them. But in one of the entries where I discussed riveting events such as turning in the rough draft for my chemistry paper and calling Dave but he wasn't there, I actually signed off by saying, "Well, I love Joey Lawrence!"