Monthly Archives: August 2005

“This Is Mission Control Requesting To Rock Out…”

Currently listening to: Star Wars and Other Intergalactic Funk (long story)

Eminem is going to rehab for a sleeping pill addiction. Maybe he’ll write a song about it, and you guys will understand what I went through last spring.

The new sleepy-pills don’t make me crazy, but they do make me tend to ramble more than usual, if you can believe that. Last night Heebs and his boys were waiting for a pizza, and he called me. “Tell me a story,” he said. “About what?” I asked. “I don’t care. Anything. Everything. I like your stories.” So I told him about Stu the sixth Beatle, as well as other stories of mayhem. It was a sweet request. I like him a lot.

I may have a million mayhem stories soon, though, because THE FRAT BOYS ARE MOVING NEXT DOOR! AGH!

It was fun telling a Beatles story, too. I’ve been avoiding the Beatles because of tainted memories, but I’ve been talking to Timmy a lot again. In the two years that we were together, Timmy taught me everything there is to possibly know about the Beatles, and I will be forever greatful.

And this weekend the OTHER Timmy had a going away party and it was a great time. He’s going to work at one of the biggest record companies in the world, and I’m super proud of him.

Somebody brought a baby to the party, and Tony’s mom started demanding grandchildren. Tony’s dad said, “Well, Tim’s making his first million and K’s living in the basement, so…” then they all looked at Tony. Then me. Then back at Tony and back at me. Tony said, “Let’s do this.” It’s nice to feel wanted.

I actually thought about it for a sec, though, because that would mean I could hang out with Tony’s family forever. And damn, I love them.

But he’ll have to fight Mark and Steev. And maybe Heebs. TSGoC will probably stand off in the corner laughing amd recording the sounds of the fight for an audio-commentary about the institution of marriage, with some TB-303 and 606 thrown in the mix.

Tony said he’s willing to joust. Mark told him to BRING IT. *Snap snap*

And back to pills: Guess who just got vicodin? Y’all better watch out.

I started running again, as well as walking everywhere I can. If there’s one thing I miss about Europe, it’s being forced to walk everywhere. There’s something rewarding about having to walk a mile to drink a beer or even to set down your groceries. The weather is gorgeous and I couldn’t have picked a more precious place to live and enjoy the scenery. Downtown Kirkwood charms the pants off of me.

It’s weird that I’ve rediscovered my love for walking this week, though, BECAUSE I BOUGHT A NEW CAR, BITCHES!! It’s so nice having four speakers that work. First road trip: Springfield, where I will slap Brad Pitt.


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Good Love, I’ve Got A Truckload

Okay, first of all, has anyone else ever had to sit though AN EIGHT HOUR MEETING ON A FRIDAY?! Is that even legal?

When I can’t make somebody happy, I feel like a failure. And when I’m happy and people around me are sad, I feel like an asshole.

Growing up, my friends would always tell me that I was a great friend… a good listener who could cheer people up almost instantly. I took a lot of pride in that. But I don’t feel like that anymore. Lately, I can’t make things better for them. Maybe it’s just because when you get older, your problems get bigger and harder to control, and the only thing that can change is the person’s outlook. You can’t change someone’s outlook for them.

I’m still more sad than I should be about you-know-who, but I try really hard to focus on the good and stay happy. And it’s hard to do that when everyone else acts and sounds as miserable as I sometimes feel. And I’ll work my ass off to make them laugh and smile, so we can both forget about the bullshit and just focus on laughing Right Now. And when I can’t do that, I just feel helpless.

Sometimes people are sad about circumstances and misfortune. Sometimes people are sad because their bodies tell them to be and they can’t really help it. But other times, people are just plain in a Funk and determined to be sad no matter what, and there’s nothing you can do about it.

I shouldn’t have to feel down just because somebody else is Riding the Righteous Bummer. But sometimes I really can’t help it. And I understand, because I’ve felt that way, too.

He used to call me in one of those moods all the time. I’d ask him what was wrong, and he’d say he didn’t know, even though he did. He’d demand that I cheer him up, and I didn’t know how to do that instantly, although I had a million plans in the works. I mean, what do you say when you’re far away and they won’t tell you what’s wrong? Then he blamed me and told me I couldn’t make him happy, even though he was dead-set on being down and not telling me why. It was shitty and on purpose and it fucked me up.

And now I’m always afraid that if I can’t cheer everyone else up, they’ll blame me and leave, too. And I feel like I don’t deserve to be happy if I can’t do the same for them.

My best friend is moving to Texas to be with a guy she met a week ago. She’s spent three days with him.

If I’d had the balls to move when he asked me to, I know for a fact that I’d still be there.

The only reason I didn’t go was because he told me that the worst thing he could imagine was to stay in the same place forever with the same people he’d known forever. He said that it was pathetic and the last thing he wanted to do with his life.

I was waiting for him to decide where he was going next. For a while, it was here and that made me happy. But I didn’t really care where. I just needed to know when.

He’s still there. He can’t figure out how to leave, and he’s pretty much doing the same thing I find myself doing… desperately attempting to be happy even though life isn’t going the way he wants it to.

Talk is cheap. So is giving up.

Maybe I need to move to Ann Arbor while TSGoC is asking me to. Life with the International Man of Mystery is never ever boring. And he has an incredible ability to let the bad things go and to always stay positive, even when he has every reason to be upset. And he always makes everyone around him feel great and special. Maybe that’s a DJ thing? I don’t know. At the very least, I might get to meet The Nuge and Julie Andrews.

I took an intense personality test once… it said that among my personality type (which is .5% of the population, thankyouverymuch), there is and always will be an air of sadness about us because we’re constantly searching for the perfect in all things.

It’s really true. Take my dad’s birthday, for example. There were tons of people and it was a fantastic time. But you know, he still couldn’t have any birthday cake. And I had to read him his birthday cards. And that really bummed me out, even though he told me he had a great day.

For a while, things really were perfect enough for me to break through all of those Eeyore clouds that follow us all around. But not anymore.

The personality test also said that I was on an insatiable quest to find my soulmate. Well, that’s fucking fantastic. Why can’t I be part of that personality type that settles and is totally okay with it?

I really hope things work out for Ra in Texas, even if she is batshit crazy. And they probably will be really happy together, as long as she hasn’t fallen in love with a Liar, too.

I’m still really happy and lucky. But it’s not perfect. And even if it were, I still can’t make it better for everyone else. And that kills me.

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Tap Tap Tap …

On Friday, I actually heard the phrase “We got a bleeder!” And they weren’t joking. They were talking about me. Heebs keeps teasing me and telling me that my finger is going to fall off. Well, that’s just fine. If it does, I will get a sweet wooden one, a la Margo Tennenbaum.

Regardless of Heebs making fun of my differently-abledness and the apocolypse-like storm we had the other day, it was a good weekend. Friday night Jen and Ron had a massive party for Our Little Navy Bean, and it was a great time. All the DJ boys came over to spin, Navy Bean was smiling, and I spent a lot of time in the VIP room talking Veronica Mars with Uncle Bob. Good times.

My roommate is constantly working at awesome events, and sometimes she brings me home presents. Last night after I got home from Heebs’, there was a note for me… I opened the fridge and this is what I saw:

The door is full, too. Holy balls. I haven’t seen this many tallboys since the Great High Life Caper of ’98.

*fanning tears in eyes* I have the best roommate EVER.

There’s no way I can drink this, so I think we might be having the party this weekend.

Heebs, Lunchbox, and I have something awesome it the works… just you guys wait. I have a lot of fun with them.

I always think it’s weird when people get mad at other people for being happy. But it’s a million times weirder when people who don’t know you at all get mad at you for being happy. So mad, in fact, that they revive their cutesy happy blog … just to talk shit about my cutesy happy blog? Wha? I mean, I really can’t spare you the “sprinkley” details, Love. People give me stuff with sprinkles every day. See?

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Hump Day Hilarity

Yesterday morning, before I went to our weekly ass-crack-of-dawn meeting, I got an urgent voicemail from Vee: “Look. Under. Your keyboard.”

It was a Hershey bar, wrapped with care:

I love Vee.

Today Top Secret Work Crush gave me finger guns. If he keeps doing that we’ll totally have to break up.

I also found out that I’m somebody else’s Work Crush. So I gave him finger guns.

I’ve been listening to Virgin Radio UK at work, and it plays like my dream Ipod. Wow.

Tonight, my crush and I get to dog-sit a big goofy precious boxer!!!

It’s really nice being somebody’s Last Call Of The Day. It’s amazing what can happen when someone wishes you “sweet dreams”.

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“So I’m scared of heights. Wanna go skydiving?”

Before I begin: I get about 3-4 hundred hits a day on this thing. Which is great and I’m honored, but who on earth are you? SHOW YOURSELVES.

Okay, so can I just marvel at how lucky I am for a moment?

I love my job. Love, love, love it. I have a cozy office with a massive window, a five minute commute, amazing people who believe in me, and new fun tasks every day. Today I got to research Wild West slang and I discovered tons of fun new words and expressions, like “cowpusher”. Haha.

I love all of my friends so much, and great fantastic things seem to be happening with everyone… weddings, babies, promotions, etc. I really love it when everyone around me is happy, and right now we’re so ecstatic that we’re all kind of wiggling through life on the verge of tinkling, like puppies in a pet shop window. Yes, it’s so adorable it’s kind of gross.

The Partment is fun, and so is not having to worry about bills or money at all. Like, ever. And now I have an excuse to go on a Target Rampage every week. I suppose my partment joy is a mixture of luckies #1 and #2.

I have been hanging out with a total sweetheart who makes me laugh and loves to cuddle. He wants to take me skydiving this weekend?! Yay! He’s also giving me one of his fish. I like him 😀


My cousin’s band is having a show that will be hosted by Ron Jeremy. I don’t know if that’s the “lucky” I’m going for, but it’s fun having a cool cousin that I’m proud of, and it’s nice being able to talk about punk during anniversary parties. His girlfriend is this adorable little punky brewster and my grandma spent the whole last party raving about her hair.

I used to spend so much time fixated on moving that I never spent any time searching for the nooks and crannies that make life in St. Louis so fun… one of the best parts of living in a Secretly Big City is that amazing things are secretly happening all the time, and they are always either cheap, like James Brown in the Sculpture Park, or free like the B-52’s on the riverfront. I’ve discovered so many new places this summer to call my own, so many new friends and faces, and new things to love in general. My newest favorite discovery is Chloe Day, who has the most precious voice I think I’ve ever heard in my life. “With You With Me” is an amazing song. This link almost blew my pink headphones out of my ears, so watch the volume if you want to hear it. And you should, so here it is.

The only thing that would make it perfect is finding that perfect person to share it all with… and who knows? Maybe my new skydiving buddy is it, but I’m so happy right now that I don’t even care. I’m not too fixated on it at the moment. I know he’ll turn up eventually, whoever he is.

Also making me happy: the bowl of Peace Pasta (my favorite food ever) waiting for me on my stove. And now I can WALK to River City to get my Peace Pasta, or even better, Tim can bring it straight to me when he gets off work. Haha. What’s that, Peace Pasta? I’ll be right there…


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