Let the rain fall down & wake my dreams, let it wash away my sanity ’cause I wanna feel the thunder, I wanna scream! Let the rain fall down… I’m coming clean

Since I started blogging, almost a whole year ago, there as not been one day that I have missed.  Every Tuesday, Thursday and Sunday, like clockwork, I have showed up and put something out there for someone, anyone, to read.

Yesterday, for the first time in almost a year, I went AWOL.

I just didn’t show up.

So, for you who were waiting with bated breath, I apologize. Similarly, if you were worried I had died or had been sucked up by my chest (please reference Dane Cook) by aliens, I’m glad to inform you I am just fine.

What happened is that I actually just got swept up in the long, holiday weekend and forgot it was Sunday.

In fact, this weekend is a whirlwind of activity.

I showed up to my dad’s house ready for a weekend of drunken debauchery with friends and family by the pool in his backyard. But what actually happened was that I arrived at the restaurant for dinner like an hour later than I had originally told everyone I would be in town. Only, after I arrived, I promptly informed my dad that I felt like I was going to throw up and then I peace’d out.  I went back to the house where I found a bathroom just in time to puke my guts out. After throwing up nothing but water and bile (and oh yeah, those two or three Advil I took on an empty stomach- I’m an idiot), I ate exactly two and a half saltine crackers and fell asleep for an hour. When I woke up, everyone was arriving back home, with the food I had ordered in hand.

After that, Seneca and I went to bed early and watched some Forensic Files.

Saturday was even more of a blur.  The day lasted for-fucking-ever.

In a nutshell, the rest of the weekend happened as follows: I probably caught cancer from this shady-as-fuck restaurant called Hibachi Sushi Buffet (it was not my choice), hit my face against the bottom of the pool,  actually won a couple rounds of flip-cup, my computer died/broke, we ate our weight in pulled pork sandwiches, Megan accidentally dumped her almost-entirely-full drink in my lap at the bar we went to, Drew and I got into a physical altercation, Megan walked out at 2am with no word to Seneca or myself, both Seneca and I ended up in tears at some point, made weird references to Hilary Duff for no reason, saw Hangover II, and when we were alerted of bad weather we played a rousing game of Life where I pretended I found out I’m barren and will never bear children(LOL), we also watched a fuck-ton of Lifetime (yeah, including William & Kate, the movie), I quoted William Shakespeare to Seneca in a normal conversation, and I fell in the lake again tonight while trying to get in the kayak.

WINS ALL AROUND.

I promise things will go back to normal.

I just need to unwind in my time machine. I need to go far away; a few years back would be ok. I just need to unwind in my time machine

I wrote a ten page paper today.

And by today I mean I did it all after 4pm.

I’m not even going to get into any discussion of daylight savings time because we all know I’ll only end up confused, upset and bewildered.

I only mention it now because it pertains to my day in the sense that when I woke up this morning, it was an hour later than it would have been had it been as things were just yesterday.  I hate that we lost an hour. It meant that when I awoke at 9:06 this morning, as my clock alerted me, it was 10:06 in actuality. It meant that I had wasted that hour without the perks of gaining an actual hour of sleep or spending that time on the couch watching two episodes of Say Yes to the Dress.

And let me tell you, I did spend time on the couch this morning watching Say Yes to the Dress! However, this was done as I sulked silently about “losing an hour.”

I spent the rest of my morning sitting in my own filth and baby-talking to the dog.  He eventually grew tired of this and decided to go sleep with his butt against the wall, as he usually does.

Evidenced here:

What's this about??

And here:

After I tired of watching Say Yes to the Dress, I decided I would finish season one of The Sopranos.

I feel so badass when I watch that show.  Mob life fascinates me. Actually, violence and crime in general tend to fascinate me. I live such a sheltered life that I pretty much just read about it on Wikipedia or live vicariously through TV shows and movies.

It was just before 2 o’clock when I decided to shower.  Once I was clean, I definitely felt more awake but I still lacked the motivation required to write my stupid case study for class.  So, instead, I watched an entire disk of season six of Entourage (each disk contains four episodes, which are, like, thirty minutes in length).

Yeah. I’m that lazy.

It was after I had wasted almost an entire day that I decided I would begin the research I needed to do in order to write my case study. I hate that part, actually, because it takes such a long time. And it requires so much reading until you find a source that you can manipulate enough to support your point.  If I’m being honest, I started out with the intent of only using the bare minimum of three external sources besides our textbook. But the 95% I got on last week’s case study really got my goat, and I knew I really needed to exceed the minimum requirements.

Yeah. I’m that much of a perfectionist.

95% irritated me.

Who am I?

Anyway, my point is, I wrote a ten page research paper inside of five hours.  I also feel pretty good about this week’s case study.

Basically, like Charlie Sheen, I’m gonna put this day in the Win column.

You cut me open and I keep bleeding, keep, keep bleeding love. I keep bleeding, keep, keep bleeding love…

I’ve been menstruating since, like, sixth grade. Blood coming out of my body is not necessarily a new thing.

But, um, that blood comes out of my vagina. And it’s regular, you know? Like, I can pretty much count on it.  And when I forget about it, I just have to remember the last time I cried in my bed for three days in a row for no particular reason (e.g. Drew uses the last of the milk on his second bowl of cereal Christmas morning; a stranger at Meijer gives me a dirty look; a Folgers Coffee commercial on TV) and I’ll realize that it’s about that time again.

But, this morning, when I realized that my body was gushing blood, I freaked the fuck out.

I do not like blood. I’d be, like, the worst vampire ever. It makes me queasy. Ever since Drew wrecked his face and I had to run from the neighbor’s house at age 5 (or something?) to tell our parents Drew’s lip was … not really on his face anymore, things just haven’t been okay for me and Blood. Even when it comes out of my vagina, I have to distance myself from it; I have to pretend it’s not really blood. Ugh. I have the willies just thinking about it.

Anyway, this gushing blood? It was not coming from my ladybox.

(Sorry I talked about my vagina, Drew.)

I can’t even tell you the last time I had a bloody nose.

Even though I’m clumsy as fuck and run into shit all the time, I haven’t hit my nose in a way that makes it bleed. When Drew chucked a tennis ball at my face, my nose didn’t bleed.

I wasn’t even participating in a strenuous activity. Nothing happened. There was no trauma to my face.

(This leads me to believe that something exploded in my brain and that I’m probably going to die.)

I was driving to work this morning, just driving along listening to Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone on CD when OUT OF NOWHERE my nose started gushing blood. Literally. I couldn’t get a Kleenex to my face fast enough. There was SO MUCH BLOOD. And it was everywhere.

I was so ill-equipped.  What, with the almost-empty, smashed-to-hell box of Kleenex I keep in my car, the fact I was driving at a barely-legal 78 miles an hour on I-96 at 8am, and OH YEAH I HAVE NEVER HAD A BLOODY NOSE AND ALL OF MY FIRST-AID TRAINING APPARENTLY FLEW OUT OF MY BRAIN IN A PANIC BECAUSE I DO NOT POSSESS GRACE UNDER FIRE.

My intention was that I would be able to stop at Starbucks or Beaners (fuck that, I refuse to call it Biggby) to grab a caramel macchiato or chai latte (respectively) and make it to work on time. Ohhhh, no. That did not happen, although I did pull into the Starbucks parking lot to try to stop the bleeding. To no avail.

I drove the rest of the way to work with a Kleenex shoved up my nose while I called my mother in a panic (she didn’t pick up; she doesn’t love me.) and machine gun-like sobs escaped from my lungs. I cried my way to work with a Kleenex shoved up my left nostril.

So attractive.

When I finally got to work, it looked like I had killed someone.

There was blood ALL OVER my scarf (the one Drew brought home for me from VIENNA!), my coat, the steering wheel in my car, my pants, both of my hands and all down my arms.

I was a fucking mess.

Seriously, that kid on youtube who got all upset about the blood? You know what I’m talking about: BLOOD?! NOT FUNNYYYYYYY!!! He was fucking right.

I even opened the first aid kit I keep in my car for sanitizing wipes to wipe all of the blood off of my hands and the steering wheel.  It only kinda worked, though, because the first aid kit is kinda old and it has been sitting in my car for a while so the wet-wipe thing I used was dried out.  So, mostly, I dumped a fuck-ton of antibacterial hand gel everywhere and wiped with the not-wet-at-all wet-wipe (because I DIDN’T HAVE ANYMORE KLEENEX LEFT!). Things didn’t really work out for me this morning as I was self-conscious about my bloody-ness all day long.

Here’s the silver lining though: at least this didn’t happen on a Monday. My whole week would have been fucked.

(OMG I can’t believe I’m even about to say this- because it’s terrible and very, very offensive, but oh well I’m going to anyway…) All I could think of, though, through the whole ordeal: If I had The HIV, this would be a nightmare. And if I was a hemophiliac, I would be so fucked right now.

would you hold it against me?

instead of writing a proper post, i did the following:

• studied all day for my finance final exam
• bombed my finance final exam
• came home
• emptied the dishwasher
• loaded the dishwasher
• cleaned out the fridge
• fed the dog his glucosamine
• saw the new britney spears video for “hold it against me”
• half-watched jersey shore
• talked to seneca
• decided to watch national treasure before i go to bed (even though i hate nicholas cage)

i was all cosy in my bed when i realized it was nearly midnight and I hadn’t posted. ugh.

i’m going to bed. i don’t feel much like writing/sharing. i’m sorry. my exam kinda bummed me out. 😦

Walking that walk, talk that slick talk. I’m liking this American Boy. American Boy…!

I’m taking a breather from figuring out the net present value of stuff for my finance homework and listening to the State of the Union as background noise.

I want to just point out that something happened to Obama on my TV.

While Joe Biden looks all normal and pink, almost like a baby, and the speaker of the house (whoever that is- I’m a terrible, uninformed citizen. And it certainly doesn’t help that I’ve been living in a hole in the ground, watching only Veronica Mars on DVD) looks nicely tanned and has a good, healthy glow about him, President Obama looks… jaundice.

First, I thought he looked yellow, like an Oompa Loompa, because I was watching Fox. (I had been watching a Glee rerun, “Furt,” to be specific.) So I switched to CNN. Still really yellow.

The weird thing is his hands look like a normal skin color, his normal skin color. So I know that it’s something about his face.

My guess is that The Man is trying to make him more white.

Obviously, they’re not doing a very good job.

Seriously, the jig is up.

Anyway, I enjoy listening to Obama talk. I’m not really sure I could tell you what he talked about in this State of the Union, but his enunciation is like a dream. The inflection he uses when he speaks is like a song. I’d like his speech pattern on Facebook if I could. I’d like it like Lionel Richie, all night long.

On a somewhat related note, Seneca and I had a brief discussion of stupid rules within the English language. She mentioned that the “I” before “E” except after “C” rule is stupid and false.

I told her, “I think the I before E thing is bull.”

Seneca basically agreed, “It’s an attempt to make English less ridiculous, and it fails.”

So then, because I’m succinct and can think of more than one thing at a time, I essentially ended our conversation with the following awesomeness: “English just… sucks, much like America, where all of these rules exist but there are always a bunch of loopholes.”

See why it’s related??? President Obama, State of the Union, America…?

Genius.

May God bless and keep you always, may your wishes all come true, may you always do for others, and let others do for you, may you build a ladder to the stars and climb on every rung, may you stay forever young

So, as I told you earlier this week, I’m sick.

It’s really just a bad cold, but it’s completely wiped me out. And I can’t really breathe, so I’ve become a mouth-breather which both annoys and upsets me. I also basically have no voice, so that’s awesome. And when people interact with me, the know I’m sick and pretty much just want me to not touch, breathe on, or be near anything.

So today I just basked in my own sickness, pretty much.

I began my day with my “daily alarm” on my phone going off. I didn’t have to have a “daily alarm” today since I wasn’t going to work. This daily alarm very deeply confused me. It was still dark out and it was as if I lost all ability to read a clock. The numbers meant nothing to me. And then I couldn’t figure out what the noise was or how to make it stop. Finally, I figured it out and zonked back out. The meds I took before going to bed should have worn off by the time the alarm went off, but I was seriously confused.

I woke up and decided to watch Shakespeare in Love. I had never seen it before and let me just tell you this: I loooooved it. I decided that I must own that movie.

After I finished that movie, I thought I should probably work on my hygiene. I took a shower, mostly because I hoped that the steam from the shower would let me be able to breathe.

It should also be noted that the only good part about being sick is that it’s a perfectly legitimate excuse to do absolutely nothing but chill out and watch movies. All day long. There is no guilt associated with the degree of lazy being sick allows.  That’s the silver lining.

I watched a lot of tv today. I caught up on all the new tv shows that I have missed. There is way too much on tv for anyone to possibly be able to watch it when it’s actually on. I just have so many shows I would like to watch and not enough time to watch them all. Are you ready for my list?  Can you handle it?

MONDAY:

• The Event on NBC at 9pm
• Hawaii Five-O on CBS at 10pm
• Chase on NBC at 10pm

TUESDAY:

• Glee on FOX at 8pm
• Running Wilde on FOX at 9:30pm
• Teen Mom on MTV at 10pm
• Parenthood on NBC at 10pm

WEDNESDAY:

I have nothing listed.

THURSDAY:

• My Generation on ABC at 8pm (I haven’t seen that one yet.)
• Vampire Diaries on CW at 8pm
• Grey’s Anatomy on ABC at 9pm
• Jersey Shore on MTV at 10pm

See?! It’s obscene! There’s no way I can watch all of that. PLUS, The Good Wife is coming back soon and I really, really like that show.  So that’ll be one more show I won’t have time to watch. Luckily, it’s possible to watch tv online. But still. Finding the time to do that is hard. Maybe I should hope to get more gnarly colds like this one. Because today has afforded me to watch a lot of tv today. I’m practically all caught-up.

What shows do you watch? Is your tv schedule as obscene as mine? What shows am I missing?!?!

Girl, you’re beautiful, ’bout near perfect- but I bet somebody’s already told you that

Remember last time I was here and gave you a half-assed blog post because I was hungover?

If you said yes, then you can suck it because despite being hungover, I shared a precious father/daughter moment with you. And you’re an ungrateful little shit.

Okay, let’s be friends again. I really wanna tell you a story.

It’s pretty clear by now that I was a hot damn mess last Saturday night. My antics are still being described to me by those who were present (or received drunk-texts… I was particularly pleased with the ones I sent to my boss. OOOOOPS!). There were some events that I had forgotten took place. That’s the best, by the way, when your friends let you know about all the dumb shit you did and said DAYS later. (Thanks, guys.)

The point is that because of what a shit-show I was on Saturday, I reached a new level of lazy on Sunday, which, after all, is the day of rest. So go ahead and hate that I did NOTHING but sleep and watch Dawson’s Creek all day long. Just know that Jesus says it’s okay.

I mentioned it on twitter but I totally got a new phone on Sunday. I got myself a Blackberry. WHICH, by the way, they call it a Crackberry for a reason. I’m obsessed. I’m in love. It’s glorious.

Dino is superior to the stupid LG Shine.

I had to get a new phone because my old one just like… stopped working. It kept turning itself off and then told me to insert my sim card and I didn’t get why because my sim card was totally already inserted. Like, all Saturday night while I was trying to drunk-text the shit out of my contacts list, it kept being like “Katie, you’re a drunk bitch and you don’t even deserve me.”  But, we made it through the night alive, so that’s all that matters. Sunday, though, apparently all bets were off because it just decided to really stick it to me and really stop working.

So, to the AT&T store I went, in all my hungover glory and told that little bitch of a phone, “fuck you, I’m getting a smartphone, you idiotpieceofshit.” Just like that.

Luckily for Jon, the poor soul who had to deal with me, I had just showered… kinda recently. And by that I mean an hour before I went. But I didn’t brush my hair or even put make up on (duh). I had gotten up from the couch long enough for me to shower, put some underwear on underneath my sweatpants and brush my teeth before I started another episode of Dawson’s Creek and my brother Skype’d me.

As I walked into the mall from the parking lot, a group of four or five attractive African American gentlemen were walking out right towards me. One of those guys decided to fuck with me. He looked me up and down and was like, “how you doin’, pretty girl?” and I actually laughed at him.  Irony. Bahaha I mean, I did nottttt look “pretty” so he was clearly just rubbing it in. Rude.

Anyway, I got into the AT&T store and decided I should probably remove my sunglasses. And OF COURSE the hottest guy working had to be the one to have to help me. Jeez, this hangover was just fucking me left and right.

Long story short, turns out I was due for an upgrade so I had the best pricing available to me. And when I went to look at phones and figure out which phone I wanted, my hands were shaking so bad I finally told Jon I wasn’t actually a meth-addict or some other drug addicted degenerate despite the looks of me. I told him, “I’m sorry, I’m fine, I’m just really, really hungover.”

Right after that, our conversation flourished and I definitely felt a connection. We had similar attitudes towards drinking and terrorizing East Lansing. It was nice.  We also had a brief conversation about how I repel technology. It was nice as well.

Even during all of this embarrassment, I had resigned myself to the fact that this is just kinda how my life goes. And then I didn’t feel embarrassed. I stood at the counter, watching the Shake Weight commercial on the TV on the wall while he did all the crap he needed to do on the computer and transferring all my contacts and shiz to my new phone. We conversed about how awkward and hilarious that commercial is and I decided that my little hungover adventure into public looking like a huge mess was a success.

I feel pretty good about it.