I was about to write a long blog about our NJ trip, but Lisa already beat me to the punch. So to sum it up, I'd say the trip was awesome. I actually started crying when we got back to Arizona and I was hit with a wall of heat and too-bright sunlight. Ugh. Can't wait to go back east for good. The funny thing was, I ran into a girl from my German class in high school at a restaurant. I told her I am living in Arizona, and she said she had moved to Louisiana for a few years. She missed NJ so bad she had to move back as soon as she could. Yeah, I hear ya.
Kristen and Ezzy's wedding was beautiful. I've never been to a wedding where everyone was just so happy to be there and the bride and groom were just beaming. The place they got married at was really cool too, and they had an open bar. Oh I had a few drinks! Kane and I ended up dancing like retards to Beyonce's "Crazy in Love", so a lot of alcohol was consumed between the two of us obviously.
I have to go meet Lisa for lunch now but maybe I'll write more later. I haven't been writing much due to how hectic my life has been lately, but things are about to calm down, so bear with me.
Until then take care of yourselves. And each other.
;)

"Untitled" by Trish
The air conditioning in my car stopped working.
It now blows dangerously hot air in your face.
The air conditioning in my car stopped working.
In Arizona. In the summer.
The air conditioning in my car stopped working.
I just ate Taco Bell for lunch.
The air conditioning in my car stopped working.
I had two crunchy tacos and a soda.
The air conditioning in my car stopped working.
I paid $3.23 for my tacos and soda.
The air conditioning in my car stopped working.
Now I want to go home and watch Montel Williams.

I’m still in the process of packing up my apartment for the big move this Sunday, and last night I was going through old video tapes trying to eliminate some of them. I found one with two episodes of Nickelodeon’s old show “Salute Your Shorts”, followed by an extremely old episode of “The Family Feud”. Why do I have a tape like that??

I think I’ve been making my boss mad by wearing my headphones at work. I don’t see what the big deal is, I’m doing a project with the small princess cut sapphires that requires my full concentration, so it actually helps me to put on my headphones. Anyway, she keeps making a big show of coming in to talk to me, and she just walks up and starts talking, then she “sees” my headphones, and is like, “OH.”. She never has anything to tell me either. She has a few fragments of thoughts, only a few of which pertain to me, and she sputters out sentence fragments or begins to sketch something on some scrap paper on my desk, until her cell phone rings and she runs away. She hasn’t said that she’s annoyed that I’m wearing my headphones, but I know how she is. Well, I’M annoyed that I have to keep taking them off for nothing. So there.
Also, according to my boss, highlighters are called “Pinkouts” and "Yellowouts", and how tall you are is not your height, it’s your “heighdth”.
I hope tonight I find the old video where I filmed the lawn guy fertilizing our front lawn, and then dubbed "Hard Knock Life" from the Annie soundtrack over it. That video cracks me up.

I haven't watched any of the Olympics. I'm not a sports person. I just don't care which country is the best at running through the grass with an egg balanced on a spoon. What? That's not an Olympic event? Sorry, that was an event from my elementary school's Field Day. It's easy to get confused, our Field Day was so similar to the Olympics. We'd get all juiced up on McDonald's orange drink (what is that stuff anyway? Why is it not juice, or even soda? This worries me.), we'd tie our legs together with whoever was our best friend at the moment, and give that three-legged race a run for it's money. Or we'd fall down and get grass stains on our new pants, and cry until some other kid crapped his pants, thereby bringing on bouts of distracting laughter. Aren't the Olympics just like that? Don't even TRY to tell me no one on the "Dream Team" shit their pants. I can smell it from here.
I am moving out of my apartment on August 29th. I'm going to miss it very much, but Lisa and I are getting an apartment together, so we can save much moneys. I'm happy about that part, but I'll miss living alone. It's been 4 years, and lots of fun. Cut to a slow motion montage of me playing with sock puppets, setting the stove on fire, making the sock puppets drink beer & fight, and spreading butter on my face, with "All By Myself" playing over it.
It's going to be weird timing, because I'm moving 3 days before I leave for NJ. I hope I won't be all tired and cranky during my trip. Probably not, going home always is a good time.
So a few days ago I bought an mp3 player. This is a big step for me, cuz I never even had a cell phone. Anyway, I love it waaaay too much. It only took me 3 days to wear out the batteries. I installed all the software on my computer at work. I hope it doesn't fuck anything up, but my mp3 payer is not compatible with Mac, and that's what I have at home.
"Robin Hood and Little John runnin' through the forest, jumpin' fences, dodgin' trees and tryin to get awayyyy. Contemplatin' nuthin but escapin, finally makin it, Oo-de-lolly, oo-de-lolly, Golly what a day."

Last night we had the first of two dress rehearsals for the play Lisa and I are directing. We open this Friday night. Anyway, this bitch stopped showing up for rehearsals, so I've had to jump in and take 5 roles. I think it's going well, although I'm pretty bitter about not being able to see the show I worked so hard on. It's okay though, it's been fun being on stage again. Anyway, at last night's dress rehearsal, we had a small audience. During act 2 we were doing a scene where I play a retarded girl named Clara, and my friend Allison plays a retarded girl named Sheila, and she's telling me about the guy she likes, who, coincidentally, is also retarded. Anyway, as she's talking to me, I'm supposed to be shoving popcorn into my mouth all angrily. Just as the lights go up and we are about to start the scene, I put some popcorn in my mouth and start to choke on it. I coughed as hard as I could, and a piece of popcorn flew out of my mouth and onto the stage. Allison saw it and we both started laughing hysterically. I think it worked out pretty good. I bet it looked like I meant to do that. It was hard to act like an angry retard after that though.

There was this group of guys I used to hang out with from '98 up until like 2 years ago. They all lived at a house in Tempe together, which was nicknamed 1810 Funhouse. (Their address was 1810 Randall, but they had bands play there all the time and had punk shows, so it was a Funhouse.) Many guy moved in and out of the house over the years, but when I first started hanging out there, there were the original four.
There was Jeff, who has been and will always be one of my best friends in the world. He went to my college (Al Collins Graphic Design School) and the day I met him he was sitting behind me in class, quietly saying things to himself like, "Are you fucking kidding me?", and "What the fuck is this guy talking about??" about our teacher who was trying to lecture. I turned around and gave him the finger, and we've been friends ever since. Jeff loved video games more than anyone I know. When a new Final Fantasy would come out, Jeff would lock himself in his room with a keg of beer and play until he finished the game. He once bought himself a set of throwing knives and he got really good at it. I introduced him to "Buffy The Vampire Slayer" and he got hooked on all things Buffy. When the musical episode came out, Jeff, our friend Corbin and I once spent an entire night in Jeff's room singing all the songs. There was a show going on that night too, with about 100 people squeezed into the house, and we were just trying to sing over the bands playing. One time Jeff got all the Harry Potter books on tape (which was about 60 tapes), and he had this great idea that we should just sit and listen to the tapes straight through, and drink tons of beer. We only got through the first half of tape 1 before we gave up. We couldn't stop making fun of the british guy who was reading the book, then we decided to make up porno names for all the characters. Then we passed out.
Then there was Bob, who also went to my school. Bob liked to smoke a lot of cigarettes and draw devil girls on everything and go off on tangents about how our school sucks or how his job sucked. Bob was a lot of fun just to go up to and say something about anything, and watch him go for like an hour about why Rolling Rock was the only beer anyone should ever drink.
After that was John, who was the house's "funny guy", who lived in the basement and often had blue hair and fell down drunk a lot. I dated him for like a week or two, but that ended when I literally caught him with some girl's pants down. It was cool though because a few days later Jeff got drunk and went down to John's room and peed on his sheets for me. Jeff rocks.
Lastly there was Mikey, who was a cool little punk guy who also was just the nicest person you'll ever meet. He wore glasses and lots of argyle sweaters, and had the greatest music collection I've ever seen. He had this one album from the 70's with this black guy in a leisure suit with a big afro and a hat with a feather (I hesitate to say he was a pimp, because I really don't know if this man had himself some prostitutes. Don't judge by appearance, motherfucker.) on the cover, and the album title was called "Yer Momma". I wish I could remember the guy's name, but the song was a very fast tempo reggae beat, with someone yelling "Yer MOMMA!" every 20 seconds or so. We all used to crowd into Mikey's room and dance around to it when the mood hit us right. One time he and I went to a "Poison" concert with our friend Dan. It was awesome to see all the old mullets come out for a wild night. Mikey also loved Huey Lewis and the News. At first I thought, "Yeah, he just likes Huey because it's a cool thing to say." Is that cool? Probably not, my idea of cool is warped by your standards probably. Anyway, Mikey really did LOVE Huey Lewis. He went to every Huey Lewis concert that went down (and surprisingly there were a lot more in Tempe than you'd expect!) and drove to every thrift shop and obscure music store looking for original Huey Lewis LP's. He had tons of 'em. I always loved doing shots with Mikey in between singing "Power of Love".
Most of the guys have moved out, or I just fell out of touch with them. Jeff just moved to North Carolina this year with his girlfriend and their 6 month old son Xander.
Anyway, the whole point of this is, this morning I woke up with that horrible song "Cruisin'" in my head. The one sung by Gwyneth Paltrow and Huey Lewis, for the soundtrack of that weird Karaoke movie. I didn't see it, because I hate movies about karaoke, but I hate that song even more. So anyway, "Cruisin'", Huey Lewis, Mikey, it all made sense this morning.
There you go, there's a blog.

Good morning to whoever reads this. It is 12:14 pm, and I'm sitting in my office, taking a brief pause from making some rainbow sapphire jewelry. I've been working really hard on it for the past week, on an order for 131 assorted rings, bracelets, earrings and cufflinks. Yay. I am the only one in the office who can make these lines of sapphire, and it's a bitch. I'm almost done though so good job to me!
My friend Taryn just made a brand new blog, inspired by me, Lisa, Kane and Toole. Well, probably mostly Toole, since he updates just slightly more than the rest of us. Anyway, Taryn and I work together, and try our best ot get through the week without murdering anybody. So far she posted a very cute story about her family making fun of her. Good job Taryn, and good luck updating every day. I'll be watching!
So I'm disappointed about everyone's opinion of The Village. I haven't seen it yet, but I've been looking forward to it for months. But everyone I know who has seen it hated it, and I usually trust these people's opinions as far as movies go. I guess I'll just have to see it for myself, but now I am much less excited about it. Poop.
I did see "The Notebook" on Friday, which I loved. I normally am not into romantic movies, but this one is very different. Yeah, it gets really sappy at times, but not in a bad "Meg Ryan+Tom Hanks" way. It was very sad though, it made me, my mom, Lisa and everyone in the theater cry like little bitches. I read the book last week, which I liked, but this is one of the rare times that the movie is actually better than the book. Like "Jaws". That book was a big pile of crap after having watched the movie a million times. DON'T READ THIS IF YOU WANT TO READ THE BOOK. I don't want any assholes emailing me that I spoiled the ending. Anyway, the book sucks. There' s this whole side plot where Ellen Brody has this boring, long drawn out affair with Matt Hooper (Richard Dreyfuss's character). It's written all cheesy, like Peter Benchley wanted to throw some graphic sex scenes in there for the hell of it. I hated the ending too. It pretty much ends with the shark dropping dead. Seriously. Thank god Spielberg made such an awesome movie. That man has far better vision than I do, I guess. That's probably why he's a world famous director, and I'm just a douche with a keyboard.

Don't you miss your teddy? You left him in your past.
You used to love your Teddy. You swore your love would last.
You left him in the attic, and you grew up too fast.
Well now old Teddy's got a knife, and he's gonna stab you in the ass!!
Holy Shit, run away from Teddy!! 

That's a poem I just wrote. Swear to God, I made it up. It's good, huh? You don't have to lie. It's okay, I just had nothing to write.
Wouldn't it be funny is that poem was not about a teddy bear at all, but about Theodore Roosevelt? "You bastard, why'd you wheel me up to your attic and forget about me?? I was a terrific President, just ask Eleanor!! I sang with Annie, for Pete's sake!! Well, FUCK YOU TOO, TRICIA! Fuck you too."

 

Have a good show Marilyn Manson!

Last night I had a very weird dream. I'm at some sort of arena with Kane, Lisa and my mom. We all have tickets to a Marilyn Manson concert. We walk up to the door, and the security guy looks at Lisa and my mom's tickets and says, "Ok, you two have backstage passes.", then he lets them through this door with all this blue light coming from it. Kane and I are nervous, because we don't have backstage passes, but we're hoping this guy won't notice and will let us through. He takes one look and tells us general entry is on the other side of the building. Feeling all dejected,  Kane and I start to walk that way, but then remember we have a problem. We have a huge rolling cart full of about 80 stuffed animals, and if we leave them here, they'll get stolen. "We better put them in garbage bags, then we can take them into the concert with us!", so we frantically begin stuffing all the elephants and tigers and ladybugs and stuff into garbage bags. As we're doing this, Marilyn Manson begins walking our way. He's on stilts, and is very unstable. He has three guys trying to keep him steady up there so he doesn't fall and ruin his bright pink leotard and fake boobs. As he's walking past, I hold up a small little stuffed bear, and I shake it at him while saying in a funny high-pitched voice,"Have a great show Marilyn Manson!". He looks at the bear and smiles, and says"Thank you very much you guys!" in Cartman from South Park's voice. Kane and I get back to putting the stuffed animals in the bag, and then I just collapse on the ground. Now here's where I had the dream....
 
I don't even like Marilyn Manson. Or stilts for that matter.

My, aren't you boys HANDSOME!

I haven't written anything in a long time, I just haven't had anything to say. I still don't but here I go a-ramblin'.
Last night I got sucked into watching "I Love the 90's". I saw 93, 94 & 95 and it was awesome. I love these stupid VH1 shows, I just can't turn them off. Maybe I should see a doctor about it or something. The best part about I Love the 90's was that they had Trey Parker, and Jay and Silent Bob doing commentaries. I could listen to Jay talk about moving into Melrose Place with all the "slutty, big-boobied women" all day.
A few days ago I made plane reservations for me, Kane, Lisa and my mom to go to Jersey for the first week in September. I cannot fucking wait to get there, September is too far away. We're going back for Kristen Marsh's wedding, and then I'm going to give Kane the tour, like where I used to live, and where the infamous Middletown Chuck E. Cheese is. Holy shit it'll be fun.
My new favorite way to kill time at work is to play "Bejeweled" on MSN games. My high score is 17,485. I am such a geek that I not only know that, but that I'm proud of that.
Today I saw a bird fall out of a tree right outside my window. I don't think he got hurt, cuz he got right up and flew away. I don't know why he fell. Maybe he fell asleep and lost his balance, or maybe he's just an asshole clutzy bird. Can birds be clutzy? If people can, why not other species? Is there some fish out there that keeps pissing off the other fish by swimming into them? All the fish swim on the right, pass on the left, but here comes this fucker to mess up their whole routine. Fish can be assholes when you fuck up their routines. Shit!

Today is Wednesday, and I've been on vacation since last Friday. It was so nice, not having to worry about work all the time. I had a 5 day weekend. I don't remember what I did on Friday, but saturday Kane and I went to see our friends Mike and Tracy at this hotel they were staying at, where we drank some daiquiris and went in the hot tub. Sunday I decided last minute not to go to a party Kane and I were invited to for our friend Rob's birthday (and for the 4th, I guess). Instead Kane went without me and Lisa came over, and we went swimming before we cooked a big italian dinner as if we were big italian women, drank pina coladas and ate cake and chocolate pie. We missed the fireworks on tv because we were too busy watching The Simpsons Season 4 on DVD. I think we each gained 10 pounds that night, but maybe we laughed off some of the fat thanks to Ralph Wiggum. Monday I spent most of the day in a pissy mood, just all weepy and bitchy. I kept trying to figure out why, but then I remembered it was just PMS. Then I felt better, and Kane and I watched "Unwrapped" on the Food Network, made up some new songs and danced around the apartment old-tymey style. To finish off this 5-day rampage of fun, I shook Kane awake around 10:30 yesterday morning and we hauled ass to make it to an 11 AM showing of Spiderman 2. Which everyone kept saying it was just okay, but I really liked it. I liked it just as much, if not a little more than the first one. The story was better, and Doc Oc was a much cooler villain that the Green Goblin. I mean, the GG was great too, but I liked how you sort of feel bad for Doc Oc. I am a big fan of likeable villains I guess, plus Alfred Molina is just awesome anyway. Plus there's a little more romance in this one, and referring to my aforementioned PMS, I thought that part was better than the first.
So my long weekend was a good one, but now I'm back at work. Before I left last week, I recorded a new voice mail message to let people know when I will be back in the office and have a great holiday blah blah blah. So this is the very first of 18 messages I got this morning:
"Hi Trish, this is (I'll leave his name out to protect his anonimity), and that's REAL NEATO that you're out on a fucking vacation, but just what the FUCK AM I SUPPOSED TO TELL MY CUSTOMER ABOUT THE RING THEY ORDERED???!!?!". Then he hung up. Nice guy. He also left two more screaming messages, even though he knew damn well I would not be back in the office until today. Then I got yelled at by this other guy who wants his jewelry, then I get a fax from the factory that they broke a customer's very rare, very very expensive tanzanite, and they don't know how it happened and they're sorry. Then I get a call from said customer, saying "Hi! This is Lynn, I'm just calling about my customer's tanzanite ring, she's very anxious and nervous about her stone and wants to know how soon she can have her ring. Please have some good news for me, honey! Thanks, Bye bye!". Then I had to call and ruin her day by telling her the stone is ruined.
I'm about ready for another 5-day weekend, I think. And maybe 1 or 10 pina coladas. With lots of whipped cream.

Yowza!! Parker Lewis CAN lose.

HAPPY JULY!! Actually I didn't mean to yell. I forgot I had the Caps Lock on.
Anyway, in honor of it being July (and in honor of me having nothing to write about today), I decided to re-post an old blog that seems to be a popular one. I have heard from a few people that this was a good entry, and since I don't know how to do that neat link-to-a-specific-blog trick, I'm doin it the old fashioned re-postin' way. It's a great story filled with love, hate, laughter and deer antler.
Here goes:
Once upon a time, Lisa had a boyfriend who lived with us named Mike. I'll leave his name at that to protect his anonimity. So once upon a time Mike lived with my family in our condo in Middletown. He cluttered up the place with tie-die and sunflower seeds, and enriched our lives with Star Trek facts and memorabilia, and a Star Trek "Q" boxed set of videos. It seemed very out of character for Lisa to be this guy's girlfriend, as they were clearly from different worlds and had vastly different interests, at least from an outsider's point of view. Mike, unlike Lisa, was a habitual pot-head. He had a large collection of bongs and pipes and hookas, most of them he had fashioned himself from various pieces of hoses and glass bottles and other trash, and each one he could talk about endlessly, with a glimmer in his eye much like that of a child on Christmas morning. Mike was okay. He was never mean or anything, always very nice and usually smiling, but he was not exactly my favorite of Lisa's boyfriends over the years. There are a number of reasons why I wanted him out of our home, some of which I've been sworn to secrecy never to talk about, but here's a little story for ya.
I can't remember the exact date, but it was late 1997. I was going to Brookdale Community College at the time, and had an early Algebra class the next morning so I went to bed early that night. Anyway, after a few short hours of slumber, I was awoken by a loud noise. As of someone not-so-gently rapping, rapping on my chamber door. I got up, very groggy and still half asleep and looked at the clock. 2:30 AM. What could have happened? Was there an accident? Was someone hurt? Did someone eat the last piece of chocolate cake? I opened the door and found Mike, smiling broadly, looking very pleased with himself.
Me (in my bitchiest, most tired voice):"What?"
Mike:"I just made something, and I want you to be the first to try it out!"
With this, he slaps a dirty broken old piece of antler into my hand. Ah yes, the deer antler he found in the woods somewhere in Arizona when he and Lisa vacationed there a few months before. The one he planned to make into a pipe, and then planned to smoke weed from said pipe. Indeed, he had drilled a hole through it, and attached a metal bowl to it, which looked ripped off of one of his many bongs. I didn't like the idea, antlers are for deers to protect themselves and disguise them from hunters in the forest, not for Mike to smoke from.
So he wanted me to take to be the first to try it. Take the maiden voyage. He had packed the bowl with his "kindest bud", and was very insistant, even though I wasn't really interested in getting high, especially not from old dirty deer parts. Still though he insisted, like it was the highest honor, being offered the first hit. I just wanted to go back to bed. So okay, fine.
I took the "pipe" from him, and lit it, and took a fairly large hit, larger than I was prepared for, and also more painful than I was expecting. Apparently, Mike had forgotten one very important step in creating this masterpiece. He had forgotten to clean out the excess chunks of deer antler from the hole had drilled. My throat closed up, and I could feel bits of bone in my mouth, lungs and throat. It was the most disgusting feeling EVER, and I spent the next hour or so practically hacking myself to death, desperately trying to cough up the antler bits. See, that's a sentence no one should have to write! Mike apologized profusely and ran back down to Lisa's room in the basement, leaving me to fend for myself in the fight to breathe. That was just fine with me though, because if I could have talked, I probably would have told him to get the fuck out of my house!
The best way I can describe how it felt is imagine how it feels when at the beach you mistakenly get a few grains of sand in your mouth. Multiplied by 1,000, and at the same time suffocating in smoke, and at the same time having a severe sore throat. I didn't sleep any more that night, needless to say.
I was really glad when Mike moved out. Yay.

Happy 4th of July everyone. Be safe and try not to stir the kool-aid with your dick this year. Mom really hates it when you do that.

When I saw this headline on azcentral.com, I was like, "Oh, that has to be Chuck E. Cheese!!"

Mom allegedly threatens to 'whip' pizza mascot

Associated Press
Jun. 29, 2004 11:36 AM


MACON, Ga. - A teenager dressed as pizza mascot Chuck E. Cheese was pelted with pizza and threatened with a beating by an angry parent who said the mascot wasn't paying enough attention to her child, police said.

Macon police reported that the 17-year-old female employee was dressed as the character - a gray cartoon-like rodent with large front teeth - when a 31-year-old Macon woman threw a piece of pizza at her Sunday afternoon.

The report stated that the mother then threatened to "whip" the girl when she changed out of costume.

No charges were filed in the incident, so the name of the mother and employee were not released by police.


Holy shit, am I glad I wasn't Chuck E. in Georgia. I feel for you, anonymous 17 year old girl in Macon, Ga. Abused Chuck E.'s of the world unite.
We shall overcome.

I am pissed off right now. My boss is in Europe for the whole summer, and before she left she tried to set up a payroll service that would automatically send us our paychecks every 2 weeks. Well, the fucking thing doesn't work and I just got a call that if my boss doesn't call in payroll today, then we don't get paid until July 6th. I have rent due on the 1st so I'm basically fucked if we don't call it in today. She is the only one authorized to call in, and she's on a cruise ship somewhere on her way to who-knows-where. Fuuuuck.
So I decided to distract myself by posting a picture of me and Kane on Halloween. He was Jack Sparrow and I was Elizabeth Swan from "Pirates" (obviously). No one knew what I was. People kept asking me if I was Cinderella or something. I guess a lot of guys dressed as Jack Sparrow for Halloween, and they posted up pictures on the internet. So here's Kane's. Except he's not a creepy internet wierdo, so his might not count.

"Look, I have a shark fin on my head!! Isn't that wacky?? ERrrrrrrrrr!!!!! Duuuhhhhhhhhh!"

I really can't stand the morning news. Mostly it's just the morning news anchors that fry my chicken (?). This morning I sat down on the couch with my big bowl of Special K and turned on the tv. The first thing I saw on Fox 10 Arizona Morning was this stuffy "I'm trying to act fun and jovial" anchorman, I think his name is Rick D'amico, announcing that his co-anchor is out sick today. Instead of having her there, they opted for some wierd chicken mascot from God only knows what team. Don't arizona teams just have snakes and lizards and wolverines for their mascots? What up wit' da chicken? Anyhow, old Rick introduced the chicken like so,"Well, in place of Illona Carson today, we have a team mascot...Uh, what ummmmm.....Where are you going? What's this guy's name?" (Man in Chicken costume leans forward and points to his back, and on the back of his team jersey reads 'Spike'.). "Oh, ummmm, SPIKE! We have Spike here with us today and.....Do you like fresh fish, um, uh, Spike?? Do you like fish? Well coming up in the next half hour we'll meet a local chef...". At this point I rolled my eyes to no one, and changed to channel 12. Good Old NBC. Matt Lauer, Katie Couric. Maybe I'll actually hear some news from THESE respected journalists. Nope. I flip to that channel, and see Matt, Katie and Roker wearing "funny" hats and drinking margaritas (surely non-alcoholic. Can't have Matt giggling like a little girl through the story about all the orphans who died in last night's fire or something.), and announcing "Coming up soon, Jimmy Buffett will be here!!". Matt Lauer, who is wearing a foam shark fin on his head with his suit, got a lil' wacky and tilted the shark fin slightly off-kilter, which brought on boughts of hysterical laughter and screams from the huge crowd on the street. Very funny, Lauer. Well played.
The only one who seemed even close to pulling of the laid-back Buffett fan 'tude was Roker, who at least bothered to show up in a cheesy hawaiian print shirt and a straw hat, and was the only one to even take a sip of his margarita. Still, I'm so not buying it. Just stop. And does anyone really like Jimmy Buffett? Or is it just stuck up, stuffy old rich people who call themselves "Parrotheads" in an attempt to show their "fun" side? Bullshit, you may be "wastin' away again in Margaritaville", but you still cheat on your wife and try to bully your spoiled kids around.
I got yer fucking long lost shaker of salt right here, buddy.

Yesterday I had a really stressful day at work. All day I was pulled in a million (okay, maybe ten or eleven)different directions, and had to deal with a whole bunch of stupid shit all day. Problems galore. I left work around 5:15, and was going to go home and take a nice relaxing shower before I had to go to Lisa's house for the first read-through of the play we're directing. Anyway, when I get home Lisa calls me and asks if I wanted to go to Baja Fresh for dinner. That sounded good, much better than whatever Hot Pockets or Lean Cuisines I had in my freezer. So I decided to forget the shower and get food instead, cuz I was one hungry puppy. Arf Arf!!! So Lee picked me up and we drove over to the restaurant, and there was no parking anywhere. We circled the place, but then decided time was running short, we should probably just go somewhere else. Lisa suggested this new place, Rosati's that she and Tom had gotten pizza from, it was pretty good. So we drove on over there, each ordered baked ziti and a salad to go, and paid seperately. Then we waited. And waited. And then waited a little more. About 25 minutes goes by, and a guy comes out with one of the dinners and hands it to Lisa. I asked him where my dinner was, that we had ordered the same thing. The guy said that only one dinner was ordered, so I pulled out my reciept and gave it to him. (So THAT'S what receipts for food are for!). He went in the back to check, and was gone for like another 5-10 minutes. By this time, Lisa and I are really nervous because the read-through started at 7 and it was now 6:35. We still had to get back to her house and eat before people started arriving, so we had no more time to waste sitting in this dump. We went up to the counter and I asked for my money back, and that was another big production. I was so hungry and frustrated by this point, I was at that stage of hunger when you feel sort of nauseus. I just wanted to get out of there so bad. Finally I get my refund and the guy says,"Just give us a couple minutes, your dinner should be almost ready by now and you can have it for free."I told him I didn't want it anymore, we had no more time to wait, but he wouldn't take no for an answer and disappeared into the back again, with the other 10-15 people who were just sort of milling about back there. Lisa and I stood there for about 3 more minutes, then finally said"Fuck this!" and walked out. We got back to her house as fast as we could, and shared her dinner. And you know what? It was terrible baked ziti. The noodles were so overcooked they we like paste. Ugh. We ate what we could and threw the rest out, but we finished just in time for everyone to get there so that was good. I hate days like yesterday. I'm glad it's over with.
The read-through went really great, though. It sort of redeemed the whole day. Everyone did even better than we had expected, and all the actors have really good chemistry together. Thank you God, because after that crappy day, I was half expected someone at the readthrough to raise their hand and say, "Ummmm, I can't read.". Great.

Wow, I am really upset that the Al Qaida group killed that American hostage this morning. I was very much hoping that he would make it home alive. It's horrible when anything like this happens, but I guess this one strikes an even bigger chord with me because he was from New Jersey. This whole situation is so sick, I just wish Bush would bring everyone home already.
Sad Trish.
:(

Does that Apple picture scare anyone? I made it and it even scares me. Lisa said she saw it in a nightmare last night. I'm sorry for unleashing that thing to the world. Actually, it's Gwyneth and Chris Martin who should be sorry. Damn you's all to HELL!
If you read Lisa's blog, you know that we are gonna be directing a play, and we had auditions last night. It was really fun, but everyone did so good it was hard to cast the show. I'm super-excited to work with everyone, especially Alison. She and I were in "Macbeth" together, as two of the witches(see below). I'm on the left, and she's on the right. And that's Mark in the middle, as the man witch. Manwich.

me: Knock, knock.
you: Who's there?
me: Apple.

A NEW SENSATION!
I just found this on azcentral.com's Losers of the Week column:
Reality show king Mark Burnett is planning a rock version of American Idol, in which the winner gets to be the lead singer of an already-established, internationally known rock band. He told Variety which rock band he's got in mind - INXS, the Australian band who lost their original lead singer, MICHAEL HUTCHENCE, to suicide in 1997. You're wondering how many hopefuls can hang in there it through the autoerotic asphyxiation elimination round, aren't you? You people are just terrible!
I'm surprised that INXS is still together after all these years. I bet their main criteria for a new lead singer is that he/she hmust have the DEVIL INSIDE. Ha! I made a funny.

Here's Mike Toole and Will Hung, during their trip to the "Die Shieze ist Gut" Wax Museum in Millburn, New Jersey. They particularly enjoyed the wax representation of the time Hitler was accused of eating all the fudgsicles from the concentration camp's kitchen freezer, which had been purchased in honor of japanese dictator Hideki Tojo's visit. It was later found that Tojo (pictured, upper right) ate the frozen treats himself, and framed Hitler for it.

Today is Johnny Depp's birthday. Happy birthday to you, sir. You're a fine actor and a good man. Please don't become an asshole in your old age. And I hope you one day get the chance to live out your dream of appearing on Fox's "The O.C.", because it is that higher plain that we all should aspire to.

Date: Tuesday, June 8th, 2004.
Scene: Lisa's car, driving south on Hayden road, about 8-ish.
Lisa: Keith Coogan is easy to do.
Tricia: Lees, I don't WANT to do Keith Coogan.
End scene.

Tomorrow is Lisa's birthday. I got her some cool presents, so if she doesn't like them, I get to keep them. Yes, most nice gestures in our family are feuled by greed. Anyway, I got her a rsklkjsafaf kiooa;aaakds. GOTCHA!!! You thought I was gonna tell you? WRONG!
I think we're all going out to dinner to some italian place, which we usually do every year for our birthdays. It's nice, but gone are the days we'd spend the passing of each year wearing our best rainbow-hearts or fluorescent finery, roller skating to "Kokimo" with 15-20 of our closest friends. I miss having soggy pizza and soda in plastic cups, and getting Barbie or Ninja Turtles presents. Laughing at my friends who roll over their own fingers while trying to lace their rented skates. And laughing with those friends at all the real fat people who lose their balance and fall down. And laughing with those fat people over how super-fun birthdays are!
I still like birthdays, but wouldn't it be more fun to unwrap a new SuperSoaker "Deathshower" 180,000,500 than a new set of kitchen towels? I'm just saying.
P.S. I got Lisa a new set of kitchen towels!!!!!!!! Woooo-HOOOOO! Shhhhhh, it's a secret!

Here's me and Lisa at Sea World in August of 2002. We found this manatee perched helplessly on a rock in the park, and this shot was taken before we bought him a Shamu-shaped ice cream bar and tossed him back into the sea.

This picture is brought to you directly from the twisted mind of Kane Black. He can't post photos on his blog because he has a Mac, and blogger discriminates. Anyway, I hope this scares your children.

Not that this is of any importance, but I just had to share an image I saw this evening. I was leaving the bathroom at work, and some lady holding a small child came rushing towards me. "Hold the door!!! WAIT! DON'T CLOSE THE DOOR!!". I smiled and held the door for her, and as she got closer, I noticed what looked like a smeared brown handprint on the little girl's pink t-shirt. Wait, what's that on her shirt?? I had to do a double take. That better not have been shit. I'm pretty sure that was human excrement. If it was, I'm glad I held my breath when she rushed past. SHIT!

I just took the "Which Johnny Depp Character Are You?" quiz from Kane's blog, and I'm:
"You Are Sam From "Benny & Joon."

You are very talented at physical comedy. People are in awe of your abilities. However, you have many quirks which can either win people over or completely annoy them. But you're a sweetheart through and through, and it's hard not to love you."

I like that. Benny & Joon is a great movie. I'm glad I wasn't "Whats-his-name" from The Astronaut's Wife. That'd be wierd. "You are married to Charlize Theron, and you have two alien children you never met because you are dead. You are also partial to grapefruit and bomber jackets."
I had a new baby delivered yesterday. It's a stacked washer/dryer combo, a full laundry center. I named her Wendy. Wendy washed me lots of clothes yesterday. Being able to wash clothes in your apartment fucking rules. I would let my stuff pile up for like 3 weeks (sometimes longer) and then try to carry all of that shit at once, plus a big bottle of detergent, and a ton of quarters, and haul this crap through my entire apartment complex. But those days are over, my friends. I shall never have to buy new underwear instead of washing my old ones again!!!

Here's a picture that I made in honor of the end of "Angel". I made it a few days ago for Kane and Lisa to commemorate the occasion, but I think I should share it with y'all. Posting pictures is FUN!!! I plan to get very carried away with this.

Just testing out Blogger's new photo posting feature. If this works, you should see Gene, holding his new friend, a can of vegetables, right before he humps the fridge. Be proud of who you are.

Last night was the big finale of Angel. It was eeeehhhh. I mean I liked it, but when "Buffy" ended I was all crying and broken up. With Angel, I was just glad Spike and Ilyria survived (at least until the end). I really love Joss Whedon, but I just think David Boreanaz ruins everything. Maybe that's unfair, but he's definitely not who I would have originally chosen to play Angel, that's all I'm sayin. And I know, willing suspension of belief, but if all Angel drinks is blood, how did he get so fat? That man is one tubby mutha. James Marsters (Spike) has managed to maintain some consistancy in his looks since he started on Buffy way back, he stays very thin, bleaches his hair all the time, stays out of the sun, but old Davey doesn't seem to have that kind of a commitment. Even when he wasn't sort of a fatty, he still looked too much like a football player to be believable as a centuries-old vampire lurking in the shadows. And has his hairline been creeping down towards his eyebrows a little more with each passing year, or is it just me? So anyway, to the cast of Angel, well done. To David Boreanaz, eehhhhhhhh.

Today I am really in the mood for Elio's frozen pizza. I woke up thinking about it. Mmmmmmmm, rectangular slices of mushy pizza with not enough cheese. Mmmmmm. Elio's pizza was one of my favorite foods for a really long time but I honestly didn't notice that you can't buy it anymore. I forgot about it until this morning. Must've been all that beer I drank last night.
And speaking of beer...
I put on SNL just in time for Weekend Update this past Saturday, and I was so disappointed to hear that it was Jimmy Fallon's last show. Now there's really no reason to watch it at all. It's cool that they still have Horatio Sans, but if Jimmy Fallon isn't there to crack up, then what's the point? I'll miss you, Jimmy. Give 'em hell. But please don't make a Boston Teens or Jarrett's Room movie. Don't make me hate you.
And speaking of hate...
Aren't puppies adorable?? Especially when they yawn. Awww.

Here's a really awesome video of Bush's State of the Union Address.
http://www.ebaumsworld.com/presaddress.html
The only thing is, how much of this is real and how much is fake??? Hmmmm.
You ponder that, I'll be over here covered in lotion, reading your diary.

Here's my bio from classmates.com.
I moved to Phoenix, Arizona in 1998 and I graduated from Al Collins Graphic Design School with an Associates in Art in Visual Communications in April 2000. I now work as a jewelry designer and web designer for Mayfield's, Inc. and do a lot of freelance design work.
I am also an amputee who is the heir to the Nestle Qwik fortune. Me and my 12 kids, Barry, Roger, Seamus, Dick, Eunice, Propecia, Stuart, Funbag, Walter, Vart, Slippy, and Alfredo, live in a trailer on the West side of Phoenix. It ain't much, but we call it home. Sort of. I am also haunted by Fruits, the ghost of a koala killed in a freak land-mine accident, who only I can see and hear.
I also filled out their questionairre, stating that my political views are ultra-conservative, and that I own the following pets:Bird(s); Cat(s); Dog(s); Fish; Horse(s); Pig(s); Reptile(s); Rock(s); Rodent(s); Other.
One time I got an email from some guy, saying that he was also an amputee, and that he agreed with a lot of my views, and maybe we could get together some time. He sent me his picture and he was this wierd balding guy, on a beach with no shirt on, trying to suck in his floppy stomach. Sometimes men can be SO fucking creepy. I couldn't see what he had "amputated", and I'm guessing he was probably just trying to be funny or something. (If you weren't trying to be funny, sorry man.)

Yesterday Kane and I killed Bunny BigEars. I bit out the eyes. And they were good and crunchy. We were surprised to learn that this bunny had a butthole. Well, I guess Kane created the butthole because there was some excess chocolate where it's ass was supposed to be (one ASSumes it was placed there to secure the bunny to the cardboard) but after biting off this nub, this bunny had a butthole. I was right about it being shitty chocolate. Kane said it kind of made his mouth feel tingly. In a chemical way.
Either way, I feel less guilty about throwing the damn thing out. I did eat the eyes, so technically I ate it.
Like my pun, by the way? Yeah, I am really funny.

I think if I were to start a clothing store, I'd call it "CrotchStains". Man, I can't WAIT to see what kinda people shop at CrotchStains! And when I give people their change, I'd put a shmear of mustard on their dollars. Thank you for shopping at CrotchStains.


:)

My boss gave me this big chocolate bunny for easter. It's a "Bunny Big Ears" and it's been sitting on the corner of my desk for 2 weeks. I really don't know what to do with it, but I'm not eating it. It's always hot in my office, so it's probably all warm and mushy, and I hate warm chocolate. Plus it's that cheap kind of chocolate that's all grainy and shitty. Don't get me wrong, I appreciate the gesture, but the fucking thing is staring at me all day long with it's empty blue candy eyes, and I gotta ditch him somehow. I don't want my boss to see it dumped in my garbage can, and I've tried many times to pawn it off on my co-workers but no one wants anything to do with it. I guess I'll have to smuggle it outside and chuck it in the dumpster in the parking lot. I feel bad wasting it, and I know my boss was just trying to be nice but fuck this bunny.
Jesus:Cross=Trish:Bunny BigEars

Hey! Me and Lisa wrote almost the same blog! How 'bout that? Check out her link to the ballet company. You can see a picture of the dude with the donkey head. YEAH! GO DONKEY!

What up G? Last night Lisa came over and we had a hell of a time. We watched a ballet (which we finally figured out was supposed to be "A Midsummer Night's Dream") with the sound off, and instead blasted music by System of a Down, Snoop Dogg, Master P., song parodies from South Park, Schooly D., and William Hung. This is a game we've been playing for as long as I can remember, we each take turns flipping through the channels to find wierd stuff that goes along with the music. Last night, though, the ballet seemed to go along perfectly with everything, I haven't laughed that hard in a long time. The best part was when this little guy wearing a donkey head came out from under a tree just as the opening to "Murder was the Case" by Snoop came on. "What's up Niggaz?". Also, William Hung's version of "Rocket Man" was a favorite. We listened to that one twice.
Then we watched "South Park". I think it was one of my all-time favorites. It was called The Jeffersons. "Mr. Jefferson" moved to town with his young son, Blanket, and all of his toys, zoo animals, and carnival rides. He kept breaking into song, he played a great game of "Got your nose!!" with Blanket, and he even climbed a tree with the boys of South Park, and sang a song which sounded an awful lot like "Have you Seen My Childhood?". I was really hoping my girl Marie was watching, because she and I have a special place in our hearts for that song. I think it was probably back in 1993 or something, and we were listening to music in her room. I had brought over some tapes, and one of them happened to be a single of the song from "Free Willy" that Michael Jackson sang. I think it was "I will be there". Anyway, we noticed there was another song on the back of the tape and I had never listened to it, so we popped it in. I think we played it about 10 times in a row, and laughed until our stomachs hurt. To this day when we talk, one of us usually asks, "Have you seen.....my CHIIIIIIILDHOOOOOOOD???"
CHILDHOOD by Michael Jackson
Have you seen my Childhood?
I'm searching for the world that I come from
'Cause I've been looking around
In the lost and found of my heart...
No one understands me
They view it as such strange eccentricities...
'Cause I keep kidding around
Like a child, but pardon me...

People say I'm not okay
'Cause I love such elementary things...
It's been my fate to compensate,
for the Childhood
I've never known...

Have you seen my Childhood?
I'm searching for that wonder in my youth
Like pirates in adventurous dreams,
Of conquest and kings on the throne...

If you've never heard it, you are in for a treat, my friend. It's all slow and dramatic, and it's supposed to "touch your heart". That song kills me. Especially if you listen to it while doing an "interpretive" dance with one of your best friends, ballet-style. It's even better if you put lipstick all around your mouth. Too funny.

I never liked The Beach Boys. They drive me nuts, actually. When I hear their mellow surf-tunes, filled with long, lingering harmonies and high notes, it makes me mad. Maybe mad is not the word, but it definitely raises my blood pressure. Know what else I hated? When The Beach Boys would appear on "Full House" and jam with Uncle Jessie. Maybe I'm wrong about this, but didn't the Beach Boys (or at least just Brian Wilson) hang out with the Manson family? They used to jam with Uncle Charlie and his "family, before they killed Sharon Tate. That's the Manson family, not The Beach Boys. I swear I saw it on at least 2 E! True Hollywood Stories.
Here's some thoughts on "Full House":
1. "How RUDE."-Stephanie
2. "You got it, DUDE."-Michelle
3. "Are you gonna finish those pancakes? I'd like to eat them, then go tease my bangs..."-D.J. (alright, I can't remember her catch phrase)
4. "Have merrrrrrcy!"-Uncle Jessie to either his wife or his youngest neice. Hmm.
5. "Insert Bullwinkle impression or jackalope here."-Uncle Joey. Then punch yourself in the throat. Hard.
6. "Gotta clean stuff! I'm always cleanin' and stating the obvious!"-Dad Danny Tanner
Kane and I always liked when they would have a sentimental moment on the show, which usually took place in Uncle Jessie's room with one of his 3 nieces (Hmm.). The music sounds like someone fell asleep on a keyboard, it's just one really long note. It's true, if you flip through the channels and come across Full House, leave it on for a minute. You won't have to wait long. There's always some bullshit going on, like Michelle's goldfish died or D.J. got date raped or something. Before you know it, they all file into Uncle Jessie's 50's rock-themed bedroom, and someone gets a hug and the music is just, "Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee...".
Good day to YOU!

So today I'm having my car fixed. Kane helped me get it to the dealership this morning, and now Tony will drive me back to pick it up in a little while. Turns out there really is something wrong with my car, since it stalled out 8 times (no exaggeration) on my way home from getting the oil changed last night. Anyway, the dealership told me there were two major things that needed to be done with the car, and that it would cost about $550.oo. I don't have that $$$. I called my dad, and being the awesome mechanic he is, he told me that one of the things they said needed to be fixed actually didn't need to be fixed. They were trying to sell me unnecessary stuff, and my dad caught them. So I called the guy at the dealership back and told him that I didn't want both repairs done, and of course he didn't admit he was wrong, he just said, "Okay, but I don't know how long your car will last without it....". Fuck you, Mr. Liar. Daddy says my car will be fine.
So instead of $550.oo, I am only paying $334.oo. That kicks ass!! My dad rules!
If you are reading this and you are in the New Jersey area, take your car to my dad's shop for repair. He's nice, and honest, and he won't try to cheat you. JTL (Stands for Jeff, Tricia, Lisa) Automotive in Keyport. Thanks Daddums.
:)

YES!!! Blogger finally let me update my blog!
I've been trying for a whole week to update it, and it would not let me log in. Hopefully this is not just a temporary fix, because boy will I be mad. I'll be so mad I'll just sit by my computer and frown.
I'm having what you might call a "bad day". Or "a case of the Mondays", if you want your ass kicked for saying something like that.
My car would not start this morning, then stalled out 2 times while I was waiting at traffic lights on my way to work. Then I get all kinds of shit for taking a sick day yesterday, and I have about 5 major projects that all have to be done TODAY. Then, money has been real tight for me lately, and I just mailed a check to the IRS for $2,500 that I owed them (if you recall my fun tax-evading story from a blog last month), so that was pretty much the exact amount I had in my checking account yesterday. I had to go grocery shopping and put gas in my car and other fun stuff, and I was supposed to get paid today, but I had to use some of my IRS money to do it. I didn't think it would be a problem, since the IRS probably wouldn't be depositing my check yet, but guess what? My boss called in the pay date wrong so my check didn't get deposited, and the IRS just felt the need to cash my check the very same day. I overdrew on my account by $209. The total is so high because for every single transaction you overdraw with, my bank charges $30. So I overdrew with about 4 transactions. On top of that, it seems I am the only one with work to do, and I would LOVE some help with it but regardless of this, my boss let another co-worker leave to go look at a house his wife's parents just bought. Call me crazy (CRAZY!) but won't they own it indefinitely now? Can't he see it, say, AFTER 5 o'clock?? I'm not mad at him really, but I'm just mad at the fucking favoritism in this office. If that was me, I'd never be allowed to leave, I'd be forced to help whoever had work to do. So I have no money AT ALL, and somehow I have to get my car fixed. I'm hoping it's only something stupid like the oil is low, but the "check oil" light didn't come on or anything. Crap, I don't need this shit today.
Sorry for complaining so much. life just sucks a fucking dick sometimes.

Here's an example of how stupid the world can be sometimes: Jennifer Lopez's mother won a $2.4 million jackpot playing the slots in Atlantic City. WHAT? Of all people, Jennifer Lopez's mother?? Her daughter has more money than she knows what to do with. The rich get richer, and the poor get nothing. I was hoping that the article would say she was donating the money to charity or something, but of course not. She's using it to set up a college fund for her other daughter's two kids. So why didn't J.Lo set up a college fund for them? Well let's see, between buying "bling" and new velour sweatsuits and Bentleys, and getting her hair, nails, and makeup done and having weddings all the time, she's just plain tapped out. Poor Jennifer Lopez. Now that I think about it, Thank you, God, for gifting Momma Lopez with $2.4 million. You are a fair and just God. Now I have to go give away all the money I have to my name to bill collectors and the IRS. Thanks again, God.

Well, it's April Fools Day, and someone got me. I won't say who, since she might get one of you too, but she got me. Just to clear my good name, she wouldn't have gotten me if I had known what day it was. I don't keep track of April Fools Day, or things like that. I'm really bad with dates, in fact for a while there I couldn't even remember when my anniversary with Kane is. April 12th. Gotta remember that!! I always forget friends' birthdays and I always feel REALLY bad about it too, especially when they remember mine. My old partyin' ways are coming back to haunt me, in memory loss form!! AHHH!!
So Lisa's friend Frank has a brand-new blog, so congrats, Frank! We've met a couple of times, most memorably at the Halloween party thrown by me, Lisa, Kane and Tom at Lisa's house, when he was dressed as a baseball player with a baseball stuck in his noggin. Good costume, too. So whether he remembers me or not, I have a picture of us hanging out on Halloween, looking a bit bleary eyed (at least I do, I drank quite a few drinks that night.). Frank has also met my boyfriend, Kane a lot of times, but never seems to remember him. Poor Kane-dy Kane. They usually meet at auditions and stuff, and whenever they do, Kane tells me, "Oh, I saw Lisa's friend Frank today. I don't think he remembered me though...".
Man, I can't write anymore. My boss keeps throwing work at me, and when I mean throw, I'm speaking literally. My desk is now full of little scraps of paper and post-its with indecipherable notes scratched on them, and she's still spouting out things for me to do even as I'm typing this. See, she fired the new woman, so now not only do I have to do my multi-tasking, thankless job, I now have to be her butt-monkey too. Gotta go, wish me luck.
:(

This morning I was on my way to work, driving down the street with the window open, when a big bug hit me in the fucking neck. It just got sucked into my car as we were flying by each other in opposite directions, but it was gross and it kinda hurt. Then I spent about 5 minutes going,"OH!!!! EWWWWWW SICK!!" out loud and trying to check to see if it fell down my shirt or on my lap or something. I didn't find it, so hopefully it's not just biding it's time under the passenger's seat, nursing itself back to health so it can fly right at my face at 5PM when I get back in the car. Fucking bugs.
That's one thing I have always feared, things flying at my head. Like in gym class, no matter what sport or game we were playing that week, I always managed to somehow get hit (or narrowly missed) by the ball, puck, birdie, whatever. Also, my friend Sara Marsh had these two cute little finches when we were kids, and they were totally adorable hopping around their cage together, but whenever she let them out, they flew right at my head and freaked me out. They suddenly became two heat seeking missiles out to perch in my hair or something, those evil things!
I hate that feeling of making that "I'm gonna get hit" face, when you get a worried look on your face, then half-shut your eyes, and pull your head back really quick. Is this the way we prepare for disaster? If nuclear war happened, and I saw the big flash, is this what I would do? Probably. I'd be frozen in my tracks, and close out my life with a "Hey, umm, is that gonna hit me??". Well, it's definitely what I would do if a piano fell on me. Nuclear war, I'd probably try to hide behind a door or something. You gotta try, you know? What would Bruce Willis do?

Okay, today I have a problem. I feel sicker than sick. Like "I'm gonna puke any minute" sick. Normally this is not a big problem, I can just go home from work early and put my pajamas on and toss and turn in my bed all day, clutching my stomach and crying to Fizzie, who just looks at me blankly cuz he can't understand english and has no way of getting me a glass of water or a bowl of soup. However, this is not a normal day, because my boss is in London right now. That leaves only me and Tony in the office, and Tony is sick too. We're both trying not to vomit this morning, and boy is it NOT fun. So if I leave to go home, he can't and if he leaves, I can't. There is no one else who can keep the office open, and if I close the place early, my boss will have a fit. I sent her an email telling her the situation, but if I don't hear back from her, I guess it's me and the garbage can until 5. Yuck.
There's nothing worse than throwing up at work. Well, okay there probably is worse stuff, but throwing up at work is still pretty bad. We don't have a bathroom in here, we have to go outside and use the building's bathroom, which is locked so you have to have a key. But before you even get over that hurdle trying to hold your vomit down, you have to get outside through the security doors, which take a good 30 seconds to get through. Doesn't sound like much, but when you're pukin', every millisecond counts. Plus since it's the buiding's bathroom, there's always a chance that someone will walk in on you, and then you feel all gross and self-conscious about someone hearing you throw up. It's times like these that I wish I lived in a "Berenstein Bears" book. Momma bear would put me to bed in my old-timey striped pajamas, with a thermometer in my mouth and a hot water bottle on my head, and bring me chicken noodle soup and cover me up tight with a big ole' fluffy quilt. Maybe I don't wish this actually, because nature is unpredictable, and my big grizzly bear Momma might turn on me. Bears can be mean.
Well, I think I'm getting delirious so I'm just gonna go now.....

Lisa wrote a really good blog about the adventures she and I had last night, you can read about it nyaw.
Anyway, I was cleaning out the hard drive on my computer here at work, and I came across a little poem I wrote in March 2002. I actually wrote it for Kane and printed it out and handed it to him before we were together. I don't flirt like other people do, I guess. So here it is, enjoy this little piece of literary history dedicated to Kane....

bAlONeY by TriSh
***************************
One time I ate a sammitch,
it didn't taste too good.
I pulled off the bread on top of it,
and there the baloney stood.
I asked him what he's made of,
he said he ain't quite sure.
I said I'm sorry I don't like you,
and I threw him on the floor.
The baloney layed there motionless,
he barely even moved,
when I put on "Best of Madonna"
and danced to "Get into the Groove".
I began to feel bad for him,
so I washed him off in the sink.
I put some googly eyes and a smile on him,
but now my new friend's starting to stink.
So goodbye little baloney,
we had some good old times.
But now I gotta go eat some soup
at Denny's with Busta Rhymes.

There you have it, although it's better with the picture that originally accompanied it, of an open-face baloney sandwich with a mustard smiley face drawn on it. I got the picture from a Cartoon Planet website a really long time ago, but I don't think it's still in existence.
***Note to Kane: Sorry my poem wasn't all flowers and love and licorice sunsets and chocolate covered gumdrops. I had to express my feelings for you as best as I knew how, through lunch meat.

Damn you, Matt Stone and Trey Parker, you've done it again. Wednesday night I taped the new South Park, so Kane and I could watch it together. Last night after we finished filming with Lisa and Mandy, Kane came over and we watched it. It's called "Fun With Weapons", and most of the episode is drawn in Japanimation, because Stan, Kyle, Cartman and Kenny buy some real ninja weapons from a guy at the fair, and whenever they play "ninja", they become these big, muscle-man type characters and the screen turns to letterbox format. It was such a well-done episode, those guys at South Park really know how to parody stuff. Anyway, there's a fight scene between the boys and some of their friends, and there's this techno song with Trey Parker singing in japanese, but there's a few lines in english, and that song is stuck in my head SO BAD today. It's like,"Hey hey let's go! Kikatsu! Ichi Okanawa Protect my Balls!". I don't think those are the words they were singing, but I can't remember what they were and "ichi okanawa" sounds about right.
Speaking of japanese, the other day Kane and I went to lunch together at "Nothing but Noodles". I ordered a bowl of mac-n-cheese, and Kane order Spicy Japanese noodles. But when our waiter brought us our food, he said in this really loud, almost aggressively cheery voice, "Spicy Jap?". I could not even look at Kane or I would have burst out laughing. (Did I mention Kane is asian?) I bet the guy must have felt pretty stupid or something, because it just sounded so racist coming out of his mouth. Kane joked around that he should have said,"Actually, I'm a spicy Filipino!". That would have been funny. Probably just to us though.

I was looking at tvguide.com this morning and I found this about the Pier 1 commercials:
Thom Felicia from Queer Eye for the Straight Guy is the new spokescelebrity for Pier 1. I thought Thom was nice, but that evil queen has stolen what was left of Kirstie Alley's career. That's just wrong! Did Pier 1 have to fire Kirstie? Couldn't they just put her on TrimSpa like Anna Nicole Smith and make her dress more modernly, instead of wearing those crazy Renaissance-festival gowns?
Now, I don't necessarily agree with the guy who writes the "Watercooler" column on that site, but I'm just really glad someone besides me and Lisa noticed Kirstie Alley's bizarre dresses. She definitely put on a lot of weight, and wearing wierd "Colonial Woman" costumes just makes her look so much worse! Don't they hire wardrobe people to prevent this kind of assault on our eyes? The other thing is, Pier 1 doesn't even sell colonial or renaissance style stuff. If they did, maybe it would make some sense, but all they have in that store is modern or oriental-themed stuff. I'm glad Kirstie's gone!! She just annoyed me way too much, and in fact made me want to shop at that store even less than I already did.
I also want to mention I am glad Pier 1 chose what's-his-name instead of blond what's-his-name from "Queer Eye for the Straight Guy". I don't watch any of these designing shows, and the two episodes I've seen of Queer Eye didn't impress me in the least, but thank GOD they didn't pick the young, gay Ed Begley Jr. with the bad Meg Ryan haircut. I don't think I could watch TV anymore if that guy appeared every 10 minutes. It's guys like him that give gay people a bad name.

We have a new person in the office, she started yesterday. I REALLY don't think she likes it here. She is a sweet older woman, very motherly, but she already seems exasperated with my boss's behavior. From what I can tell, my boss has been giving her incomplete instructions on projects, and the poor woman has to keep doing everything over and over. Plus our office organization is laughable, so she has to keep asking me how to find this and that. I feel for her, because I have tried so many times to fix stuff around here, and it never "takes". Oh well. This lady is totally gonna quit.
So everyone meet my new favorite website, CATPRIN. Brianna sent it to me (YAY Brianna!!), and it made me laugh out loud when I opened it. Now, not to endorse it, but I can understand people dressing up dogs. Dogs are people pleasers. They'll put up with some serious shit because they love their owners so much and want their approval, but cats? Cats don't give a fuck what we want. Cats do what they want, when they want, and nature gave them sharp little claws and teeth if you got a problem with that. There's a few bastards who get their cats declawed, but personally, I would be pissed off if my parents had my fingernails ripped out to make me more "cuddly". These poor declawed cats are probably the most likely victims in this kitty-dress-up epidemic, so as we laugh at their misfortune, remember to feel some pity.
The best thing about this page is all the bad grammar, because poorly written english makes everything funnier. The things they wrote about each costume crack me up, especially the "High School Girl's Package", and the "Frog Costume Package".
"New fashion of this Spring! It's gonna hit big! She's kind of froggy...

A very cute and humorous package to transform your cat into a frog! Material are bright green felt with big eyes drawn, presenting a pop and cute impression. There is a flipper attached to the neck. These froggy looks surely make you laugh. Don't laugh too much or SHE might get sulky. :-) The hat and the neck ornament are velcrod and can be attached or detached easily."
So go dress up your cat, and cheer or yell, do whatever you like to enjoy the moment with your family. Junichi!!!

Well it's 4:14 on Friday, and I have only 46 minutes left until it's the weekend. This week has really flown by fast for me, considering that it completely sucked. The best thing about it was probably Lisa and I meeting up with Mandy to discuss the movie we're making. Working title:"Cheese". We start filming on Thursday of next week, so that's gonna be fun. My collegues and I do not feel the plot is ready for discussion at this point. Everyone's on a need to know basis, but trust me, you won't be wondering anymore in January 2005, at a theater near you!!!!!!
Speaking of movies, Kane and I are fixin' to see "Secret Window" this weekend. I hope it's good. Not like "Mystic River". Whew, what a piece of crap that was! It might not have been so bad, but the ending was just horrible. C'mon Mr Depp, work your magic and restore my faith in the box office. I'm sure he will, I like everything Johnny does, well, with the exception of "The Astronaut's Wife and "The Man Who Cried".
Have a wonderful weekend, Blog. Take care of yourself now.

Today I opened up my email and got a pleasant surprise. Someone had signed my weddingchannel.com guest book!! Woo-hooo!!! I actually forgot I even made a wedding page on there, it was a long time ago. Let's just say I try to get creative when I'm bored, so I made a page to announce the wedding of myself and Darth Vader. I even made a very poorly rendered photoshop picture of Darth and myself, enjoying a vacation. Feel free to stop by and enjoy my wedding page!
If you are too damn lazy to click on the link, here's what Benjamin Smash of California wrote for the Dark Lord and me:
Benjamin Smash - CA 3|9|2004

Oh you two. I'm so happy you finally got married. Everyone saw it coming. Trish, whenever you feel you're being treated unfaily, pray Darth doesn't alter the arrangement - he's a stickler for changing plans. And Darth, Trish is impressive, most impressive, when it comes to cooking up some deep-fried Wompa so try to be patient. I saw a couple of the photos from your proof book, and that wacky Palpatine breaking the glass with his finger-lightning before Darth could step on it - man that was funny. And you should have see the looks on people's faces. Good time. Mazal Tov. -Benjamin

Now I don't know what deep fried Wompa is, but boy does that sound GOOOOOOOD! So thanks, Benjamin, wherever you are. Darth and I are very touched by your kind words and sage advise. Mazel Tov to you, my friend.

Hey I made a new title for my blog! One time when I was really little, I made an audio tape of myself explaining how to make your very own Princess Diana crown out of paper, crayons and glue. Lisa found the tape. She has yet to stop teasing me about it. No one knows what happened to the tape, but it's out there. Somewhere out there. Out where dreams come true.
To quote myself,"You could even put STARS all over it. Or, your baby sister.......could HAVE it...."

You know, this sucks. I've been meaning to post for a few days now, and I keep thinking of these great topics. Last night I thought of two really good ones, and as soon as I turn on my computer.....nothing. I got nothing. It's a distant cousin to the dreaded music store disease. You have a long list of CD's you want, ones that you've put off buying or ones you didn't realize you wanted, and you say to yourself, "Self, remember to buy 'Solitude/Solitaire' by Peter Cetera.". But then you walk in the door of Sam Goody and before you know it, you are wandering around aimlessly, blinded by the Photoshop'd Chrome and Diamond logos on the rap CD's, and you're saying to yourself,"What the hell was I looking for??". And it's only several weeks later, when "The Karate Kid pt. 2" is on TNT, and you hear "Glory of Love" bellowing at you from the 1980's, that you realize, "OH YEAH!!!! That's what I wanted!! OK, next time I go, I definitely won't forget....". Well, it's like that.

Has anyone ever heard of the Emu Whisperer? I'm not making that up, I promise. I tried to look up stuff about him on the internet today so I could put a neat little link on my site to it, but I couldn't find a damn thing. When Lisa and I were watching Animal Planet's "Most eXtreme" on Wednesday night, they did a short segment about this old, eccentric guy who is a self-proclaimed Emu Whisperer. He was a dirty, sloppy heavyset old man, probably about 70 or so. The brim of his hat had been torn, and was partially hanging down over the side of his face, (maybe an Emu tore it trying to whisper back to him?), and his clothes looked like they haven't been washed in a considerable amount of time. Anyway, he apparrently hobbles out to a field somewhere (Animal Planet did not specify where) and lays down on his back in the grass and dirt, and raises his legs in the air. He waves his legs around, and knocks them together, and makes a sound like he has something caught in his very dry old throat. If I had to try to type the sound he makes, it would probably be:"KhuuuuuuggggguuuuuhhhhhhhhHHHHk.". It was so funny because the Emus (Emi?) didn't seem to really give a crap about this guy, they were just walking around, looking at trees and stuff, and none of them seemed to understand whatever intricate message this old man was trying to give these animals. Somehow, Lisa and I ended up talking about the old man being Ed Asner, loudly croaking to the Emus,"Suck my dick, EMU!! HEY! Suck it! Suuuuuck it!". Also, the song "Can't buy Me Love" would be playing in the background. I guess you had to be there.
Suck my dick, Emus!

I took the book quiz, and I'm....

You're The Great Gatsby!
by F. Scott Fitzgerald
Having grown up in immense wealth and privilege, the world is truly at your doorstep. Instead of reveling in this life of luxury, however, you spend most of your time mooning over a failed romance. The object of your affection is all but worthless--a frivolous liar--but it matters not to you. You can paint any image of the past you want and make it seem real. If you were a color of fishing boat light, you would be green.

Personally I always thought that if I was a color of fishing boat light, I'd be yellow, but okay. Having grown up in the glitzy world of being an heir to the family fortune, I care not of such matters.

Lisa is home sick from work today. She's got a sore throat, and therefore is sick. She's pretty much the only person who emails me, so I'm very bored. I even did actual "work" for a while there. Shudder. My boss sent me to the post office a little while ago, so that was fun. I hit some guy's car with my door when I was trying to get out of my car. It was totally not my fault though, I tried my best not to do it. But he was parked way over the line, and all crooked. I hate people that do that. Just take the time to back up and straighten out, for Pete's sake.
Once inside, the post office seemed to glow with enchantment and magic. As I pushed open the ornately carved, mother-of-pearl doors, I was greeted by three tiny fairies, who attached a chain of flowers to each corner of my package and gave the chains to four beautiful blue birds. As the birds carried my parcel to a little green elf sitting on a toadstool, the fairies filled out the proper "Airmail" forms and labels for me. Another elf was playing beautiful music on a pan flute while a chorus of white mice sang a soft lullabye with their tiny voices. I was treated to some raspberry tea, served in an upside-down tulip, and some candied plums, dipped in sugar and lime. A white dove invited me to sit on a fluffy cloud, and I drifted lazily as my package was prepared for next day arrival with a signature required. Once my transaction was complete, and I had paid the shipping costs to a small black kitten in a red tuxedo and tophat, the cloud I was resting upon carried me through the opalescent doors to my car, as all the small woodland friends I had just made waved and bid me "Good Day, Sweet Lady! Farewell!". Many people are unaware, but post offices are full of ancient magicks.

For some reason, I have something stuck in my head all morning. It's from an old SNL sketch where Eddie Murphy was "Little Richard Simmons", and he's dancing and singing "Tuttie Frutti" as these fat ladies are doing aerobics, and one of the lines from his song is "She got blubber to da East, blubber to da West, the bitch got long and floppy breasts, Tutti Frutti.....". Anyway, that's the line I've had in my head all day. Floppy breasts, that's funny.

I don't like people who start off stories or proclamations with "I'll tell you what...". My mom used to date a guy who did that all the time, and I'll tell you what, I hated that guy! Upon first arriving in Arizona, while we were looking at the many mountain ranges surrounding the airport, Lisa and I were met with,"I'll tell you what, once you get up in those mountains, boy...you won't even believe it. This is God's Country, man. Whew. I'll tell you what.". This was in turn met with blank stares from both Lisa and myself, and later repeated and mocked in hushed voices in the back seat of the car as we were leaving the majestic airport. God's Country. Please.

Oh Shitstain.

$2,500.00. That is a lot of money. With that kind of money, one could go on a pretty decent vacation, or pay off some credit card bills, or put it into savings towards their future. Guess what I have to do with $2,500.00? Pay the IRS.
I am monumentally pissed off about this. I should probably let you know that the only reason I owe this money is because I failed to pay my taxes from January 1st to July 31st of 2003. Why didn't I pay my taxes? Well, it seems someone forged my signature and filed a few forms to mark me "EXEMPT" from taxes. I have been working here for 4 years, and I've never changed a damn thing about my tax info, so I didn't think to start checking to make sure I was paying taxes. Why the hell would I do that, since I was under the stupid assumption that ONLY I had the power to change my personal tax information? Silly me. The other thing was, I got a raise at the beginning of last year, so suddenly having larger paychecks didn't raise a red flag for me. The only reason I caught it was because my job got a new bookkeeper who noticed that I hadn't paid a dime to Uncle Sam. She also told me that only about 5% of people in the U.S. are eligible for "Exempt" status, and that those who attempt to file for it without qualifiying get marked on their records for tax evasion. This mark can remain on file for about 7 years.
It's not that I can't get the money. I will definitely have to empty my savings, and cut a lot of corners, but I'm gonna make sure to pay it in full when I mail my taxes in. But it's just not fair, I had plans for that money. I was going to move to L.A. with Kane over the summer. And the worst part about this whole situation is the girl who did this was supposed to be my friend. Ouch.
Okay, end of tantrum. Whining is for bitches anyway.
Over the weekend, some random chain of events led me to seeing two episodes of "The Real World". If you've been reading my blog, you know that I don't like this show. These two episodes are the longest I've ever sat through that shit, and they confirmed why I hate people in my age group. In the course of one hour, I saw a 19-yr old girl get turned away at a club for trying to use a fake ID, I saw another girl violently punch some guy for teasing the 19 yr old, then get arrested for assault and cry her heavily lined eyes out about it, I saw a two drunken, belligerent frat guys acting like asses, one of whom got arrested for public drunkenness, and some punk-goth-dirty girl who has a boyfriend back home, drunkenly hook up with the drunk guy who did not get arrested. This girl (I didn't catch her name) then calls her boyfriend the next day sounding all guilty, claiming she can't remember anything that happened the night before, but denied hooking up with anyone. If you can't remember anything, how do you know? They broke up and the girl was sobbing uncontrollably. The 19 yr old was supporting her, saying how he's not worth it, which is good logic, considering he's not the one who cheated. The only person who made any goddamn sense on this show was the black guy with the glasses (didn't catch his name, either). He was the only one sober, and had to keep calling different jails and people's parents to try to get $8000 to bail the girl out of jail. But if he really had any sense, he'd pack up his shit and move out of that house, leaving all those drunk whiney babies to fend for themselves. Oh, there was also some asian girl there, who's main purpose it seemed was to stand around in a mini skirt, mouth agape, and say,"OH NO!" about everything.
Great show. Can't wait for "Real World: Philadelphia".

Last night Kane's dad took Kane and me to go see "Othello" at the Herberger Theater. For those of you who aren't into Shakespeare or who missed the movie "O" starring Mekhi Pfifer and Julia Stiles, here's what "Othello" is about: These two pals, Iago and Roderigo, can't raise enough money to pay for college, so they concoct a crazy scheme to sell chinese whores to rich men, but then their van breaks down. So the guys and the whores get out and try to change the tire, but along comes a tour bus, and who gets out?? Billy Squier. That's right, the "Stroke Me" man himself, I swear to GOD! Billy is on his way to Venice to play a big concert, but his manager was recently shot in the head, so he needs a new manager. Old Man McConcert won't let him on stage without a manager! So Iago and Roderigo volunteer to manage Billy, in return for ONE MILLION DOLLARS. After much hemmin' and a-hawin', and a serious of 'mis-adventures', one of which includes Iago mistakenly drinking urine out of a homeless guy's boot, Billy Squier agrees to let them be his managers, and they get to Venice and party like madmen. And then some black dude kills his white wife. Then right before the play ends, we see Roderigo selling a few chinese whores at the concert. Iago approaches him, saying that they don't have to do that anymore, they have more than enough dough to get to college, and Roderigo replies,"I know, but we'll ALSO need new mountain bikes to get to class with!". They boys exchange a hearty belly laugh, then Iago pulls out a gun and shoots Roderigo.
It was a kick ass play.
But if you go to a play, here's a tip. Try not to sit near anyone who's gonna be having coughing fits throughout the entire show, and also try to avoid anyone who goes,"OOOH! OH WOW! OH NO!" anytime anything happens on stage, and then laughs really loud at nothing. Ma'am, we can tell you don't understand Shakespeare. It's okay, you don't need to overcompensate.

Well, this has been a pretty good couple of days so far. Everyone in my office left yesterday morning to go to a jewelry show in Tucson, and I have been left behind to run the office. YAY! I really hate trade shows. I know a jewelry trade show probably sounds cooler than most, but trust me, it's not. First of all, my boss is a huge micro-manager, and at these shows she just goes berserk. She dictates when we sleep, eat or go to the bathroom. Seriously, you can't eat until she's ready to eat, which is never because she just survives on Powerbars and protein powder. Not only that, but everyone walks around in their suits and fur coats, flaunting their fake tans and boob jobs. And most of the men are perverts, and it seems like the main reason they go to the shows is to get away from their wives and have affairs. Yuck. Not only that, but all expensive jewelry looks exactly the same after a while. I only like the $5 necklaces and rings from Claire's boutique, thank you very much.
So this year I'm off the hook. And I get to play music in the office!! This is usually frowned upon, so I'm taking advantage of the situation. Right now I'm listening to Policy of Truth by Depeche Mode and blowing bubbles with my strawberry gum. I've still been getting my work done, but it's really nice to take a break once in a while without someone looking over my shoulder. Except for Stevie, the Invisible Goat. But Stevie don't care. Stevie likes oats.
So I don't know about you, but if I hear one more fucking thing about Janet Jackson's mammary, I'm going to walk to L.A., find her house and knock on the door and punch her fake nose off. I heard about it on my alarm clock this morning, I saw news about it scrolling across the bottom of the tv screen during the news when I was getting ready for work, I heard about it on Howard Stern which made me switch to another radio station, then I heard about it on THAT radio station, and then EVERY WEBSITE I go on says something about it. Please shut the hell up. I think it was very retarded, and I also think the Britney/Madonna thing was retarded, and that Bennifer was retarded, and that kid who played Corky on "Life Goes On" was DEFINITELY retarded.
One can only hope that Adrien Brody will take one of his balls out at the Oscars, so America will have something new to talk about.

Ugh, I ate too much Shogun Express for lunch today. The small just looked so....small...ya know? I had to go for the large size. What an ass. I feel as sick as a newborn goat.
Anyway, has anyone had a chance to look at my company website? There's a cute lil' link over on the right, there. Yeah, towards the top of the page. Uh-huh, that's the one. Anyway, I designed that website. It's pretty cool, since I never made one before, but next I want to learn how to make a Flash movie. I took a class at school where they taught Flash, but I think I was too busy falling out of my chair and quoting Billy Madison to care. There's a flash movie on the site already, but it was made by the guy who designed our old website. I think it stinks. The pictures of the jewelry look really bad, and the music bites a nut. If you go to the jewelry section, and click on What's New (which is a lie because none of the shit in there is new anymore), you can see what his old website looked like. It was so boring. Someday I'll get in there and fix that shit, and update the "What's New" section to NOT include stuff that nobody bought or stuff that got stolen. It's hard though because I'm pretty lazy.
If you go to the bracelet section, you can see what takes up the bulk of my time and energy. Rainbow sapphire bracelets. I make those, and then we send them to Hong Kong to be set in gold. Classy, eh? It takes a pretty long time to make one rainbow, although I'm much faster at it than I used to be. They are really popular in San Francisco. No really, they are!
Oh, the other thing I meant to write about today was, Kane had this really great idea. You know how in that movie "The Others", how Nicole Kidman finds that book of pictures of dead people? I guess in the olden days, when someone died, people would prop up and pose their deceased loved ones and take a picture of them. I can't believe how creepy that is. Anyway, Kane was thinking that it would be funny if stores would put those photos in picture frames instead of pictures of people posing or sailing or riding a bike or something. Even if the sales of frames dropped off dramatically, at least it'd give people something to think about.
Well I think it's funny.

Last night Lisa and I went to her gym, since she got me a free two week membership. Finally I'm part of SOMETHING! Anycrap, we did the workout thing, then got some dinner, and went to buy some assorted groceries, which included Lisa's purchase of Rollitos. It was an exciting time.
So she drove me home around 9:00, and on our way, we listened to "Africa" by Toto. The only thing was, Lisa started going off on a tangent about how great it was that Toto managed to use "Killamanjaro" (I think I waaay mis-spelled that one) in a song, and she was like,"Did you hear that? They said 'Seren-get-EEEE!'!!". I had to pee really bad, so I was like, "No, umm, I gotta go.....", but Lisa insisted I hear this part of the song."Wait just one second, let me rewind it.", so I sat as she tried to cue up that part of the song again, but she kept stopping the tape too soon, and it kept stopping right AFTER the miraculous line. I tried again to say goodnight so I could go empty my bladder, but then Lisa said."No! You gotta hear this!!" and locked the car doors. She maniacally kept rewinding and stoppping the tape, rewinding and stopping, rewinding and stopping, UNTIL....."blah blah blah SERENGETTI..". With a crazy laugh, my sister declared it was okay for me to leave and go pee. This is a chilling example of what can happen if Toto falls into the wrong hands!
As I was getting my shopping bags from the backseat, I told her, "I'm gonna blog about this.". She said, no I wouldn't , I would never embarass her like that.
Here Endeth the Blog.

Am I the only person who saw that Bush's State of the Union address was on tv last night and changed the channel as quickly as possible? Look, I know I am supposed to care, but how the hell can I get into this stuff? It is sooooooo boring. It might be different if there were real people involved in politics, but all I see is suits, suits and suits. Even the ladies are in suits. These people live in another world, not in America. People in America don't wear suits even on the weekends, and act and speak so conservatively. Real people wear logo t-shirts and jeans and baseball hats and stuff, and they tell it like it is. Even if they have a vast knowledge of "college" words, they don't go throwing it around in everyone's face, like they are better than everyone else. And why don't any of these political people smile or anything? Sure, they give old Bushy the subdued, polite laugh when he tries to make a joke to appeal to the masses. But for the most part, I think if you want to appeal to the masses, you should be a part of us masses.
I wish politicians were more like my dad. My dad is a mechanic, and he's out there all day working his ass off and getting covered in grease and dirt, and trying his best to do his job. So if someone like my dad appeared on tv, wearing his navy blue work clothes, all tired from working all day, his old brown workboots covered in grease and oil stains, and said,"Listen, I've been doing my best to avoid it, but we're gonna have to send some troops over there. We've really gotta sort this shit out, so just be patient and know that everything's gonna be okay.", I'd be 100 times more likely to pay attention and really give a crap. This guy would be right in there, fighting along with everyone else, not having lived the priveledged life of George W. Bush. This guy wouldn't give it a second thought, he'd spend his money on helping America, not buying yet another grey suit and a private jet. I would trust him a lot more. Hell, I'd probably even vote, too. I'd vote for the guy who's been a farmer his whole life just like his father before him, who's son is over in Iraq. I'd vote for the female candidate in the green Christmas sweater with the white collar sewn on to it. She was at that church bazzaar last Sunday, she's been hearing some things, and she and her husband Ed and their cat, Scratches, are ready to do something about it. I'd rather hear what she has to say.
End of speech.

Hey wow. You know that thing that you do where you stare at a spot on your desk or your hand or something, and let your eyes sorta fuzz out, like get all blurry. Well, I just realized I've been doing that for a really long time. What is that thing? I heard somewhere that it's a form of a seizure, but I don't think I'm having seizures. I think my job is just really dull.
So anyway, here's a quote from a phone conversation Lisa and I had a few nights ago. "Be sure to thoroughly coat your vulva with your favorite parfum."
You can take that in any context you want.
Oh wow, great Blog today, huh?
WHOOP ASS.

My grandmother called me last night, which is weird because she never does, she only calls me when she forgets Lisa's number. That makes twice this week. I wasn't home to get the first call on Tuesday night, but she left a really great message on my machine. Apparently she had tried to call Lisa, and was "very concerned that something is wrong". See, Lisa has a message on her answering machine, where she says, "Hi, this is Lisa and Tom, we can't get to the phone right now..." then you hear Mr. T's voice saying, "Don't gimme no back talk, sucka! Quit your jibba jabba!!". It's a great message, but apparently the humor was lost on old Oma. On the message she left me, she rambled on about how the strangest thing happens when she calls Lisa, and that I better call and check it out, because something could be very wrong. I guess in my grandmother's world, when someone breaks in to your house your first instinct would be to run to the answering machine and record a new message.
So last night she called while I was eating dinner, and at first I was going to let the machine get it, but then I felt bad because I didn't call her back the other day. The thing is, if you decide to call her or pick up the phone when she calls, you have to be prepared for at least an hour and a half of hearing her drone on and on about someone you've never met from "the lodge" who has a daughter whose friend is married to a man who is in "the service" and has a cousin who.......etc. After seeing her number on the caller ID, and rolling my eyes to nobody, I reluctantly picked up the phone and said hello, and for the next 45 minutes I didn't get another word out. She is the queen of talking over people and interrupting you when you do actually get to say anything. That drives me crazy. Usually after the first 45 minutes of hearing the most random, boring stories that have absolutely no point or relevance whatsoever, she finally asked me, "So is Lisa okay? Did you try to call her? You know, the strangest thing happened when I tried to call her on Tuesday...". Before she can launch into telling me about it, I cut her off (YAY!) and explain the message to her, and it went a little something like this:
me: Well, it's a toy that Lisa has, and when you push buttons on it, it says things.
Oma: WHAT?
me: It's a joke message, Lisa has a toy that says funny things when you push buttons on it.
Oma: WHAT? A toy?
me: Yes, a toy.
Oma: a toy WHAT?
me: When you push the buttons, it talks like Mr. T? Do you remember Mr. T, from the 80's?
Oma: WHO?
me: Mr. T?
Oma: I don't......WHO?
me: Mr. T. He was on the tv show 'The A-Team'? He's a big black guy with a mohawk and lots of gold chains?
Oma: He has a WHAT?
me: he used to wear all these big gold chains...
Oma: Who is this now?
me: MR. T!!!! HE'S A BIG BLACK GUY WITH A MOHAWK AND LOTS OF GOLD CHAINS!!!!!
Oma: I don't know who these BLACK people are!
me: (silence)
Oma: Thank goodness Lisa is alright!

I feel I should also mention that my grandmother is a racist. Maybe you guessed that. Holy shit, I hate talking to my
grandmother.

I have a real problem with people who pronounce stuff stupid.
ACTUAL WORD............................COMMON MISPRONUNCIATION
supposedly.............................................supposably
height.....................................................heighth
sandwich................................................sanwidge
groceries................................................grosheries
railroad..................................................rareroad
wash......................................................warsh
Regina(as in the name)..........................Regina(sounds like Vagina)

My boss says that last one. She insists that it's the proper way to pronounce the name, in her native Canada. She makes no sense. HEY! Who here loved Ashton Kutcher's cameo in "Cheaper by the Dozen", huh?!?!! Oh, yeah I didn't see it either. Aaaaaaalright.
When will Ashton Kutcher be found dead in a pool of his own sick? And stop yelling everything instead of saying it! I think he might have some kind of hearing problem, and I think the solution would be to jam a screwdriver in his ear.
Shit.