i think my dad gave me food poisoning. i told him happy belated father's day, he gave me e. coli. that's awesome. i'm never going to be late with a card ever again, i swear. next time it may be ebola or some other flesh rotting disease that starts with an "e". i can't think of anymore right now, but i'm sure they exist.
so last night, i had this dream that keanu reeves was at my parents house for dinner. my mom was cooking and i was infatuated with our guest, which i have been since 1988 and "bill and ted's excellent adventure." my mom kept giving him the stink eye and told me that she "knows what this guy is all about and he's no good. don't listen to a word he says; he lies." apparently keanu/ted and my mom aren't kosher. so after dinner we went to the races in osky. we were late getting there and they wouldn't let us in, only keanu/ted. so i had to watch from the outside and i was sitting with andy crawford, who was meowing and marking some sort of score card/betting sheets covered with small pictures of jelly donuts. each donut he colored meant something but he wouldn't tell me what.
i have no idea what any of that means. and i really despise jelly donuts, they're just gross. jelly goes on toast, not in my pastries, damn it.
so tonight nigel and snackmaster bob and the chil'ens came to the raging metropolis that is corydon, where we're quietly progressive and moderately backwards. we had dinner at one of four restaurants (if they can be called that) that specialize in heavily fried food. my stomach is in dismay at the moment. it didn't help that we went to the playground and jumped on the footbridge for an hour; i think i might vomit. it was 943 degrees outside and i was running around like a retard.
i haven't been to that playground in years. the high school shop class built it my freshman year; i was not a part of that, obviously, as i nearly failed shop class in junior high, but i enjoyed the playground for four years after its completion. it was "the" place to go to get injured or make out in the pitch ass dark while drinking mad dog 20/20 and boone's farm strawberry hill. and no one gets injured quite like the janel, let me tell you. i have a permanent lump on the head from trying to climb the spaceship in the dark. at least it wasn't a water tower or a grain silo.... that time.
i leave for charlotte next tuesday, i think. i can't remember. i'm looking forward to going. i'm going to be poor, so i plan on panhandling in the chicago airport on my layover. if you see a well dressed curly haired chick with too much carry on luggage offering to shine shoes in terminal 1 next tuesday morning, that's me. give me a dollar, just because i'm cute and because i can't shine shoes for shit. i don't even know what i'm going to be doing with libbeth and the family. maybe i won't need money. maybe i'll just be holding down her sofa, which is pretty much what i do at home. in which case, dollars are not necessary. but i at least have to have the dollars to buy my mom a magnet in return for watching my kittehs. she's like a kitteh surrogate mom; they love her almost more than they love me.
i haven't flown in ages; not since last november when the fam and i went on our vegas vacation. for some reason, it seems like the only thing they remember from that trip is when mom bought me the six-foot whale dick full of kamikaze and hurricane and then they took me to the buffet where i proceeded to call the workers bitches for not putting out more crab legs. WE WERE THERE FOR FOUR DAYS AND THIS IS ALL ANYONE REMEMBERS. but in my own defense, mom spent like 20$ on that drink. i was obligated to finish it.
i love airplanes. i love the sounds and the feeling and that thing i get in the pit of my stomach at take off. i love, love, love turbulence and saying freaky things to the people around me just so i can watch that look they get on their face, like "does she know something i don't? am i going to die?" i adore airports. i miss my job so much i can't fathom getting another one (or at least that's what i tell myself.) but i do miss our adorable little regional jets. and getting to be a raging lunatic bitch to passengers because that's just what we do when you walk up to our counter. i do miss that. :( but i'm pretty much a transportation junkie, because i love the trains that go by my mom's house at all hours of the day and night. riding the train to connecticut was awesome. and i'm always up for a road trip, even if it's just to the us border.
so the toga party pictures are up and available for public viewing. i was late to work this morning just so i could make sure that there was nothing too incriminating. i was actually pretty tame on saturday, truth be told. but i always like to skim the photographic evidence just to be sure.
the guy i was writing about the last time i wrote (i don't remember when that was) keeps calling. and now he calls me sweetie. yuk. knock that crap off. i'm not your sweetie. and the dj that i thought i was just friends with? yeah, he's not leaving me alone either. i'm going to start turning off my cell phone and start using it for emergencies only.
that's not going to happen. nigel, you can relax. i just enjoy making hollow threats.
laundry calls. i hope my new tshirt gets here before i leave for charlotte. dude! i'm revenue! i can travel in my pj's if i want to - that's awesome. :P
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