correction

I would absolutely make sweet sweet love to Rachel from gLee if she sung to me the whole time.

Disclaimer:

Rachel from gLee if you read this (which i am sure you won't) I am sorry for my inappropriateness but honesty is my game, and i want you to sing my name.

gLee

Ok...so it is Wednesday (my favorite show night) and i'm sad because my shows are over. I have reverted back to a 14 year old girl who runs her week by the evenings scheduled television programs.

gLee (yes i just took the time to capitalize the "L" and now explain this to you). The show is pretty awesome, a bit predictable, but that's because i am awesome, and talented folk are awesome as well.

I have decided that i can and am attracted to a lot of people only when they sing, such as Beyonce, John Mayer, Ruben Stoddard, Finn and Rachel from gLee (i did it again) and maybe even the gay one, Kurt.

OMG! i am blogging about tv and how i'm kind of a lesbian for awesome voices. No...if Kurt can admit he's gay to his father, then i can admit to my two readers that i am totally attracted to a fabulous voice, male and/or female.

Thank you :: bow with a hand flourish ::

Raves and tweekers

I have much to tell....

1. Friday Night

This past friday i went out for my friend's, Katy, Birthday (big 25!)...We started ou

t on Hoi Toy (i just butchered that spelling) where Bonez and i promptly consumed 2 scorpion bowls among shots and some beer.

Friday was my "free" day for my new lifestyle change. I truly took that to heart and snatched the friend ice cream the birthday girl was given on the house and helped myself.

From the asian place we went to an Irish place called The Blarney Stone where i was given the nastiest Jack & Coke i have ever drank, drank it, watched Bonez push a screen out a window and then we left where we went to the Blackstone Tap. It was a high school reunion early. I saw a lot of kids from Millbs High and i am pretty sure i said a whole bunch of shit i probably shouldn't, but i don't remember so it can't count, right? The oddest

part of that whole sitch is the person i was most excited about seeing was my cousin, Devin, though i've seen quite a lot of her.

Upon exiting the Tap, i demanded that the birthday girl's b/f take me to BK, which you can only assume is not the wisest decision with regard to my newest lifestyle change. The suckiest part is i don't remember eating my delicious Number 4 (whopper Jr. you moron!) and i spilled my large Coke getting out of the car to chase my cat that isn't supposed to be out

side (but was she really outside....no one knows).

One of the highlights of my night? Probably when i received this picture from Seriously Bent after i told them my plans to attend a Pirate Rave Saturday

evening.

2. Pirate Rave

"Tasty Treats 3
A Swashbuckling Adventure
FULLY Pirate Themed Party, Aye Mateys!!!!! "

I was tired, hungover, upset i ate a whopper jr., and i was a bit scared. I wasn't sure what a rave was, i was dressing up like a pirate, i couldn't wear my sword, and i was sure i was going to either be slipped a little MDMA or rupheed (another spelling masterpiece).

Meaghan, my friend i was going with, knew a DJ so i figured it couldn't be all that bad. We arrived around 845ish, to a creepy warehouse building called the Artist Development Complex, in Southbridge MA. After asking which door to enter, Meg and i arrived in full Pirate regalia, she paid (cause i'm broke) and we entered a very loud room, blaring techno, flashing lights and maybe 15 people. I am not sure what i expected but i expected a couple hundred people, water bottles and fucked up people.

I wasn't disappointed on all of those accounts. The way i figured it, our "recession" is hurting the new rave order BUT not harming those who consume drugs. There were these girls, and i say girls because they were under 21, in tidied tank tops, cut up (for the pirate theme of course) and jeans cut off right above there knees...I have NEVER smelled anyone so rank in my life. This one girl, with short hair so obvie a Lesbo, came up to me while i consumed my one beer of the evening, danced all close then left, which she did often throughout the night. A little later her and her gal trippin' pal (the tweekers) came over and handed Meg and i these 4 year old bracelets. Not four years old but meant for four year old children.

I now have three. Not until after i received several of these, in different delivery forms (one came sliding down the wooden bar at me as if it was a full delicious pint of bud heavy) it dawned on me that they could've been soaked in a nasty substance and could be poisoning me! The tweekers danced covered from head to toe in glow sticks (and bracelets) and were often seen jumping up and down or rocking back and forth against a pole or huddled up in dark, blacked out window, knees to chest, with a slight, drug induced smile plastered on their face.

Well, i persevered, wasn't drugged (which was a lame and non-eventful), didn't die and grooved on and on and on. One thing dancing for 4 1/2 hrs to techno music gives you is time....time to observe the oddities that surround you.

Several questions and conclusions came to me....

A. Just because you're trippin'...even for days...doesn't mean you are allowed to abandon your hygiene.

B. Why do childish objects, such as beaded bracelets and animal backpacks go hand-in-hand with drugs?

C. I saw many 18+ yr olds wearing animal backpacks and i feel as if my intelligence and womanhood has been violated.

D. Where i was on September 19, 2009 is a place i would never ever want any of my children to be a part of. In fact, this is one of the first conclusions i came too...if i find out my child ever attends one of these, other than to make observations i have done and experience a very different lifestyle for an evening, i will yank their face out of there so fast and then hit them with my car after i have made them consume a large quantity of hallucinogenics so they become so scared they will never go into such a situation again. After which i will shower them so the stench of others is scrubbed off their skin. All the while reading them Macbeth.

E. I am confident i will be a great parent.

3. And the rest of the weekend

I have decided that Alec Baldwin is the man version of my cougar, a couger. Isn't english one of the only languages that doesn't stress gender with word endings? Well, i am changing that.

I will leave my few but fabulous readers to ponder this question. Is there really such a thing as fact?

Please discuss.

Torn*

This post might seem a bit like a Dear Diary, but don't be too alarmed, i won't post any of my crushes here!

I am so very in love with so many areas of my life, which i suppose is a good thing but it is a curse as well.

I love where i am now. I love Mike, the house, living together, etc etc. But i miss everyone in NH and Boston. Likewise when i was in NH, i missed everyone in Boston and Millbury and when i was in Boston i missed everyone in Millbury (i had not been to NH yet).

I just received a lovely phone call from my dear friends from Seriously Bent and they made me giggle, not blush (though considering the content of our conversation i should've been quite rouge), and ache for each and every one of them. Basically, to satisfy my need for them i am writing this, so i can get along with the rest of my day without being a total bitch and melancholy.

I think of those kids (quite a few older than i am) often. And for those of you who read this, they know more about me then anybody and being away from them kills me but i can't have both worlds. A world where i am with them everyday and where i am home. Though i could argue that home is with them. And so it is. I just have many homes.

So, know this readers around the world...i am absolutely in love with my friends in Boston. They know who they are.

* I am apologizing for the preceding angst.

Back

So i am back...A one Patricia Barrett has yet again inspired me. With the aid, of course, of one specific, tiny little man, often called Mandy but to me, he is Lil' Nick.

Without further adieu, i will move on to more mundane topics that pertain to my life.

1. Asian Cuisine.

Mike tried his hand at making Thai garlic and pepper and somethin' somethin' shrimp last evening. While it came out very good, i can not further elaborate for fear that i will inevitably say something offense as i usually do when on such a topic.

2. Kittens my future babies

I wanted to let the world know that i believe it possible that humans (i.e. me) could produce milk for little cute baby kittens if there mother happened to die by a horrible act (i.e. me). I do not think this falls under the tiny subsection of animal abuse, bestiality (also known as zoophilia), but under the largest category of them all, love.

If you are insulted, think of that babe years ago who was raised by wolves. Its the same thing.

3. Wallpaper

Scrapping wall paper sucks.

4. Pirate Rave

I'm going to one this saturday.

5. Hunger

I am still actively pursuing my lifestyle change, which entails six small meals a day with no drinking/smoking/etc etc. I will be drinking this weekend as it is a good friends birthday. But i am proud to say that i have been fighting hunger now for 11 days.

Again, please remember to donate.

6. Tits to you

Thank you to my dear readers out there...i don't feel like such a lonely blogger anymore.

One of the older kittens (from the first time the damn Mama cat decided she had room for rent in her extra large womb!) that i like to dress up in beads.

Kinda Sad

I think today might be my final day of blogging because to be quite honest i feel rather dumb writing to absolutely no one. (no offense to all of you serious bloggers out there).

So maybe this is my final one or not but i'm here to express how sad i am right at this moment. I am facing an inner battle, as usual, between the young woman who enjoys ironing, learning to cook, doing house work, renovating and eating healthy and of course the other young woman who loves to go out, drink, pretend she's classy, pursue her career, or maybe...just maybe get back into that improv thing i love so much. But that all depends on another recent observation of mine...there is a difference between comedians and funny people. I happen to fall into the latter. From what i have witnessed and taken part in...i am a humorous being. I can make people laugh or feel relaxed or even ease awkwardness but have you ever read anything i have written? Really not that funny. On stage? maybe i just need more practice. 

This being said...i see a lot of my pals doing great things and here i am, sitting in a house full of cats, unemployed, planning my next meal. I suppose that in and of itself is material. 

So i am off to boil some eggs and rub some chicken breasts with garlic. Maybe the slutcat will give birth tonight. 

Boobs

Last night, as i was getting ready for bed i realized just how weird boobs are. Think about it...They are fatty deposits that just hang off a body.

Imagine a cow standing up with its utters just floppin' around, that'd be weird right?

Then you have the issue of size, age and hangidge.* A boobs hangidge is absolutely effected by its size. The same can be said of age, BUT after some serious scientific inner debate, size and age do not go hand it hand. In fact, size obviously doesn't effect age and age doesn't effect the size. 

And the attraction and attention boobs receive. Now, i will be the first to admit boob attention is a wonderful thing and i enjoy my breasts, please don't misunderstand me...i'm just a bit confused by it all. Men (and some women) ogle after them and i can only assume that it has something to do with suckling at the teat as an infant. But you have to admit, society's infatuation with breasts is astonishing. 

* This study does not take into account those with breast implants, illness or a transgender surgery. 

Well...now i feel royally uncomfortable and not because i just mentioned transgenders but because of the whole topic.  

Did i mention i'm unemployed?