Mapquest, Elmo, and Little Kids Crawling on Me

Today started like any other Sunday for me. I woke up with a bit of a hangover. I wanted to stay in bed, but I had promised Dustin I would go see his show in Detroit, and today was the last day he was going to be there. Plus, I wanted to see it. I wasn't really sure how to get to the Fox Theatre, so I did what anyone would do, I mapquested.

I use mapquest any time I go on a road trip. I love it. It isn't always the most direct way to get somewhere, but it's normally worth the extra few miles to know you are going the right way. I don't know what happened today, but mapquest was wrong.

I followed the directions and got off the highway where it said to. I didn't look like I was in downtown Detroit at all, but I figured if I drove down the road a few miles like it said, I would end up in the right spot. I drove, and drove, and drove some more. There was nothing but some restaurants and gas stations. I turned around and asked someone for directions. He told me to get back on the highway and follow it till I get downtown. That was the best he could do for me. Thanks.

My dad used to drive through Detroit every day for work and is familiar with the area, so I called him. He thought I was heading in the opposite direction that I actually was, so he told me to turn around. As soon as I turned around, I realized I actually was going in the correct direction before. I turned around again. He started to give me directions.

I like to have reference points when I get directions, but my dad went a little overboard. He listed every exit I would pass, every possible highway I may end up if I'm not careful, and where to get off. I stopped listening after about 3 seconds because he had me so confused. I knew the theatre was near the baseball field and that there would probably be signs directing me where that was, so I would find it eventually. I got there on my own, and was still early enough to get tickets and get my seat without missing anything. Good thing for mapquest too, I'm not sure I'll be using them anytime soon.

Anyhow, there was a little girl sitting next to me, eating cotton candy. She kept hitting my arm with the cotton candy, and then would laugh because she thought it was funny to get me sticky. I hate kids. About halfway through the show, she decided to stand up and walk around. Of course the most comfortable place for her to stand was leaning against my leg. Her mother didn't say anything about it either. All I could think was, I'm 24 years old watching a show about Elmo by myself. I know I would be a little more careful about letting my children touch someone matching my description.

All problems aside. I did enjoy the show. Dustin saw me sitting there about 2 minutes into the show, and would look towards me when I would take a picture. The costumes were amazing. I couldn't believe how well the actors could dance in them. Crazy. Dustin was great. It brought back so many memories of the good old days at the Pit, acting on stage with him. Now he's moved on to bigger and better productions, and I'll just have to be his groupie.

A Sexy Piece of Beef

As I was reading comments left on my blog tonight, I realized just how weirded out(or turned on) people must get by the comments my brother and I leave for each other. Ryan has been trying to get into my pants for years.

I was working tonight, and out of nowhere, I got a text message from my brother. It said, "I love ur ass." Poetic, isn't he? Yes, I made a dirty response, but that isn't what this post about. It's about my older brother's desire to sodomize me.

About 2 summers ago, I went to a demolition derby with my family(don't judge us because we're white trash). I got drunk, of course, and my sister had to drive me home. Ryan knew I was getting out of the car to get something out of the house, but he decided to pee outside on the front stoop anyway. I rounded the corner to see him in all his glory. Accident? I think not.

If anyone is really grossed out or offended by this, let me just tell you, you would never survive a gathering with my family. I don't know where we all went wrong; we were all raised as good Christian kids, but sex is not a topic we avoid...except for me, I'm completely virginal...if anyone contradicts me on that, I'm going to be pissed. True, I have an odd relationship with my siblings, but I wouldn't want life to be any other way. Deal with it.

The Glass Is Always Full

I love it when people piss me off. I'm normally a pretty easy going person, but I have my limits. I got pissed off at work tonight at a couple of girls.

I hate when people think they're better then me or know more then me, because, well, they never are. These girls kept making bitchy comments and acting like I didn't know how to do my job. They were serving the drinks, and I was making them. After about two minutes of working, they stopped getting drinks from me, and made the other girl behind the bar make them because I refused to do things the way they told me to.

After about 10 minutes, she got pissed at them too, and they were forced to decide who was the less of the two evils when they needed a drink. Since they were still pissing us off and insisting that no one wants a top on their soda cup, cups should be filled more, the prices we were ringing up were wrong, we were using bad lemons and limes in the drinks, we decided to get pissy back.

The first thing we did was find all the small end pieces to the lemons and limes and use those for any drinks they needed. If someone came to the bar, they got a nice big piece put on the rim of their glass. The servers had small pieces dropped into the drink. This didn't seem to bother them too much, and we felt bad that people were paying for those drinks, so we made a new game plan.

Every drink we made, we filled to the very top of the glass. My drinks were so full, I didn't dare to set them onto the servers trays, because I knew they would spill. They would watch us fill the cups with their eyes as big as could be wondering just how full we would fill the cup all while thinking, how am I going to carry this across the room and up the stairs without spilling it.

Christa and I were having a great time at this point. We would laugh every time we filled a cup. As I was in the middle of filling a drink order, one of the girls said to me, "Are you in a bad mood?" Mind you, I was laughing at the time and have never met this girl before that night. I realized I must have misunderstood her. I said, "Excuse me?" She said, "You seem really grumpy tonight." As opposed to all the other times I've made small talk with her and joked about life? I was going to refuse to make any more drinks for her the rest of the night, just so she could see how grumpy I can be, but I was the bigger person.

this story really sucks. Sorry.

Free Your Mind

In the past week, I've been told that my blog is very David Sedaris like three times. I take it as a compliment. However, David writes about things that happen when he was high from time to time, so I feel as though I should write this story.

I never got into drugs at all. They never had an appeal to me. That isn't to say that I've never experimented. I won't use any names in this post, so as not to incriminate anyone involved...I'm so controversial. Ooh, I'll create names for the people involved. I'll be so confused with who I'm writing about by the end of this.

The first time I smoked pot was new year's eve when 2000 became 2001. I really didn't have any desire to do it, but I had heard from so many people that you don't get high the first time you smoke it. I figured, what the heck. Why do people always lie to me?

For the first 20 seconds or so, I had this great feeling of enlightenment. The answers to life's most pressing questions were obviously clear. Then, it felt like I was in a vacuum. I was overly aware of everything going on around me, and became paranoid beyond belief. People will say I had a bad trip, but let's just be honest. Giving illegal hallucinogenic substances to someone who has one of the worst cases of depression doctors have ever seen, and is paranoid in everyday life just isn't a good idea.

At one point in the night, I told David(code name) to take me to the hospital. I really felt I was going to die. He told me everything was okay, so I decided to try to sleep it off. He put in a movie of a show he had done at the Pit. I remember waking up at one point and seeing an elephant onstage. No, there was no elephant in that show, but that's what I saw, and it made perfect sense. I woke up in time to mumble happy new year to whoever was sitting on my feet at midnight(I had passed out on the couch). I vowed never to smoke weed again after that night.

I did well for a year and a half. At that point, Milly told me she wanted to get high with me. I said, "Fine." I wanted to see what it would be like if I had a normal trip. Well, it had the same effect on me again. I remember not being able to sit still. I had to keep rocking back and forth when I was sitting; it made everything okay. It gave me a new found appreciation for life though, especially the taste of food. For the most part, I was paranoid, and didn't like it.

I decided to try one more time about a month after that. I had some doja and went to the bar. Everyone thought I was just really drunk when I showed up. Rather then correct, I let them think that. The paranoia was still there, and I didn't really enjoy it. I guess drugs just aren't for everyone. I haven't touched anything since then.

Trashy, With a Touch of Class

I recently developed an appreciation for wine. Previous to the last year or so, I hated the taste of it. Now, I enjoy it from time to time. With wine, comes drawbacks. Wine hits me hard, and fast.

Last night, I went to Dustin's birthday party at Tommy V's. I was all set to have a sober night, but peer pressure set in, and I fell off the wagon. I decided to get some wine with my dinner. Two glasses later, I realized I probably should have stayed sober.

Let me take this time to say, I can hold my beer fairly well. I can drink many a frat boy under the table when beer is involved. When I start to dabble in liquor and wine, my drunk self starts to show.

Anyhow, the restaurant was closing, and I needed to sober up before I could drive home. The most logical thing to do was to go to the bar a few blocks away to get sober. I know, but at the time it seemed completely reasonable. We got there, and I ordered a beer, which took me two hours to drink. As I was drinking my beer and sobering up, I made quite the fool of myself. Highlights included drunk dialing my friend late at night(sorry Amanda), giving my phone to Paul so he could drunk dial my friend(sorry Charlie), hitting on Stasi, one of my bosses at the temple, and admitting a secret crush to a table full of people.

I had to work all day today, but I figured I would be okay. I really hadn't had a ton to drink after all. Truth be told, I thought I was going to die this morning. I couldn't focus on anything, and I was crabby beyond belief. I tried to pretend to be all chipper and helpful, but after about 2 minutes, I realized it just wasn't worth it, so I would just be crabby and let everyone draw their own conclusions as to what was wrong with me.

I still don't understand it. I shouldn't have had such a drunk night/hangover from what I drank last night. Did someone slip something into my drink when I wasn't looking? If so, who? I need to have a talk with this person, because there is no need to do such a thing to me. Just buy me a drink and I'll go home with you. I'm so classy.

One Reason I Will Never be a Model

When I was about 5 or 6 years old, my sister broke my nose. This wasn't your Brady Bunch episode broken nose where a ball accidentally hit me in the face. This was the result of an all out fight.

I really don't know why MJ and I get along as well as we do today. I was mean to her when we were growing up. I guess that's what older brothers are for though. I don't really remember how the fight started.

What I remember is that Molly was cleaning her room, and kept telling me to leave her alone. She threatened to try and throw me out of the room, so I slid under her bed so she couldn't grab me. Instead of screaming and yelling at me to get out, she just ignored me and started to sweep the floor.

After being under the bed for a few minutes, I got bored. I asked Molly if she was mad at me still. She said she wasn't, so I stuck my head out. Oh, she lied about not being mad at me still.

As soon as my head was exposed, she held the broom as high over her head as she could and hit me right across the bridge of my nose with it. I think I may have passed out for a few seconds after that, I don't really remember. I threatened to kill her, but by the time I got out from under the bed, she had already run screaming to my mom.

Although my mom doesn't admit it, I think this is one of her favorite memories of me growing up. She used to always tell me I was going to get what was coming to me one day since I always aggravate people. I've heard her tell this story to my nieces when they get into fights...this is what could happen. She always seems to smile when she tells it though.

Drunk Conversations

I LOVE drunk people. There is nothing better then seeing someone stumble to the door, or overhearing a conversation a drunk person is screaming in a bar. I had the opportunity to overhear a drunk conversation at the bar tonight. To be honest, the conversation itself wasn't too funny, it was just how loud it was that made me laugh.

I had to go to the bathroom at Retro Rocks(not my choice of bar, but I was sucked in because no one would go to the Junction). I passed a boy and girl on my way to the bathroom, and it looked like they were about to have a heated conversation, or were just finishing one. Of course, my curiosity took over, and I wanted to know what they were talking about. I decided I would find some clever way of listening after I went to the bathroom,without being too obvious. Little did I know, I didn't really have to worry about overhearing.

As I stood at the urinal, I could hear the same three sentences over and over. "Tommy, you're my boy. I love you from the bottom of my heart. Don't be like that." In the girl's defense, she did change the order that she said these sentences during the five times I overheard her in a loud bar on the other side of a closed door.

I finished relieving myself, checked the mirror to make sure I looked okay, and walked to the door. Before I could open it, Tommy walked in. Poor guy, he looked like he was having a rough night. I let him pass before I opened the door. As I opened the door, his girl toy walked in. Yes, she walked into the boy's bathroom. Now that's what I call classy.

I don't try to deny that I get really talkative and lovey when I get drunk. But come on. I don't scream in the bar...and if I do, it's funny. What are some funny things you've witnessed or overheard a drunk person say? I don't want anyone to relive any drunk dials I've given them though.

My Small Bladder and Other intriguing Stories

Amanda broke into my blog(again) to correct a post that I wrote. She forgot to mention all the insanity that ensued during our road trip to Interlochen that day.

Amanda and I had a full day planned; watching From Justin to Kelly in the theater, road trip up north, and a Joshua Bell concert. I woke up that morning with the worst ghonorrhea infection you could imagine in my throat. It was horrible. The only way I could talk was to drink water before I said anything.

By the time we left the theater and started to drive up north, I had no less then two gallons of water in me, and was continuing to drink. Needless to say, many bathroom breaks were needed. The most unfortunate part of driving through small towns is that there isn't always a rest stop. The most fortunate thing is the things you see while driving.

While we were driving, we passed a hearse. When I say we passed it, I don't mean it was driving in the opposite direction on the road. It was sitting on the side of the road with a for sale sign in it. We had to stop and investigate. How often do you see a powder blue hearse on the side of the road? I'll answer that, that was the first and only time I've seen it. I considered calling the number posted on the sign because...well, big back seat.

We got back on the road, and about twenty feet later, I had to pee again. Since there was no gas station within 20 miles, I made Amanda drive down a back road. I started to piss at the same time a car turned down the road. Since I was in someone's front yard with my cock out, and someone was coming, I kind of freaked out. I tried to go as quick as I could, but the car was rapidly approaching. I stopped peeing about halfway through relieving myself, and jumped back in the car. I didn't want to get an indecent exposure fine or something.

My Older Sister

My oldest sister keeps yelling at me because I never mention her in my blog. Maybe if she would comment on it, I would write about her more. None-the-less, this post is dedicated to her.
Erin looks a lot like Winona Ryder, but doesn't shop lift...as far as I know at least. Growing up, she was one of the coolest sisters you could ask for. Since there were eight of us children, she took on the role of second mother. More importantly, she was hit by a car when she was a teenager. She was riding her bike to get a pie at Kessel, and someone ran a red light. No serious injuries were sustained, but she always was my idol after that.
Also, she gave me my first cigarette. Okay, my first cigarette I stole from my older brother, but he doesn't know that and reads my blog. We were both losers and used to spend our Saturday nights watching Disney Channel movies(Suzie Q) on TV.
Much love to Bookie. Now you don't have to keep emailing me about a mention in my blog.

A Couple Things:

Guest blogger Amanda here.

1 - Joshua Bell did not compose the score for The Red Violin. John Corigliano did, and won an Oscar for Best Original Score.
2 - Joshua Bell DID play the violin solos throughout the movie, and has a little tiny role as - you guessed it - a violin player in the orchestra.
3 - Scott neglected to mention that, before we saw Joshua Bell, we saw From Justin To Kelly, in the theatre. As in we paid money to see it. True story.

TomKat no more

Who would have thought that a May/December romance that conveniently began while the "love birds" were promoting their blockbuster movies(both of which suck by the way) wouldn't last. Maybe it was the cult he forced her to join, or his educated comments on national television about anti-depressants, or possibly the awkwardly forced displays of affection they felt the need to force on us every time we were unfortunate enough to have to see a picture of the two of them. Katie, listen to me. Forget the child support. I'm sure Dawson's Creek has paid you enough to live comfortably. Do the world a favor and do him in. Don't worry, I'm sure Brooke Shields will pay for your lawyers. The world will be eternally grateful to you as well.

The Red Violin

Although it doesn't happen very often, I love my life sometimes. This story starts about two and a half years ago.

I received a phone call from Amanda telling me that we were going to see a concert together. Joshua Bell was going to be playing at Interlochen, and she had front row center tickets for us.

For those not familiar, Joshua Bell is a violinist. He composed the score for the movie The Red Violin, which won him an Academy Award. He's very accomplished in his line of work, and has won some Grammy's to boot. I had only seen parts of The Red Violin before going to see him, so I wasn't as excited as Amanda, but the violin is my favorite instrument, so I was up for it.

The concert was amazing, but we spent the entire time living in fear. See, someone's watch beeped during the first song he did, which broke his concentration, and he had to start over. I was petrified to move or make any noise since I didn't want to be the person who made him start over again.

After the concert, we went to dinner, and Joshua went too. He ended up being really nice and came to our table and talked to us. There were some students sitting at the table with us, and one of the girls ordered him a dessert. It was a nice gesture, until she started to eat off his plate. The look of disbelief, intermixed with horror was one of the funniest things I have ever seen. Amanda and I had a two and a half hour drive home, so we left. He gave us a look that said, "Please don't leave me with this crazy girl." A friendship was born.

Anyhow, fast forward to tonight. The Temple was showing The Red Violin. I was walking near the backstage area with Deena, when the lady who owns the violin walked behind us, holding the violin that sparked the motivation for this movie and is probably one of the most beautiful instruments ever made. I'm not one for hero worship or thinking someone is better due to their fame or wealth, but I was in awe when I saw it. I seriously froze and my mouth dropped. I couldn't believe I was standing five feet away for it. If I had been smart, I would have asked if I could look at it closely and maybe touch it. I'm sure she would have said no, but I would have loved to at least ask.

The Sad Goodbye

I love this dog. Unfortunately, I'll have to give him up soon.
Peanut was brought to my vet the week before Christmas. He had a broken leg, and the owners couldn't afford to fix it, so they released ownership to us. We did surgery on him and put him in a cast.
Since we were going to be closed over Christmas, I decided to take him home with me so no one would have to interrupt their day to let him out and feed him. My sister stopped over and saw him, and decided she needed to have him as a pet.
He's been on strict cage rest for the last month and a half while his leg heals. It sounds really mean, but if he's jumping around, even with a cast on, he'll run the risk of injuring it again, so he can't be out, other then to go to the bathroom. I decided to take care of him the entire time of his recovery. I've grown really attached to him in the past few weeks.
He had his cast removed on Friday, but he still needs to take it easy till his muscles are back to normal. That means, I only have him till about the end of next week. Then, he goes to live with Katie and her family. It's going to be really hard to give him up, and I'm not relishing the day that I have to do it.

Skating With Celebrities

It's really sad that I look forward to Monday nights so I can watch this show. I really don't watch too much TV, so it's really bad that when I do, I choose to watch this. The whole premise of the show is really dumb, but it's so addicting, you can't get away from it once you start.

Sadly, there's only one more episode left. The finale is in 2 weeks. My early favorites were Jillian and John. Kristy and Lloyd have really grown on me the last few weeks though. It's gonna be a fight to the finish. Ooh, what if there's a Tanya/Nancy moment? This show is on Fox, they'd probably pay someone to hit someone on the leg just for the ratings.

I've Got a One-Way Ticket to Hell

I had to buy a birthday present for my older sister today, which meant I had to go to the mall, which meant I spent about $200 on clothes for myself as well. I was really cranky today. I haven't had much sleep this weekend, and I swear that every person who was in the mall decided to window shop and stop directly in front of me when I was trying to move from store to store. My patience was starting to wear a little thin when MJ and I went into Hot Topic.

I found a shirt that I thought was really funny, so I bought it. As I was checking out, I took a step backwards so I could see something on the counter a little better. As I stepped back, something was thrust into my ankle. I thought someone had kicked me. When I'm in a bad mood, the last thing you want to do is touch me. Even though it was my fault for backing up without looking first, I was about to bitch this person out.

I turned around, and was face to face with a blind boy. He was still trying to regain his balance after I threw it off by stepping into his walking stick. I wish someone could have videotaped my face so you could see the transition from anger to mortification that I underwent in about a half second.

My Very Special Day

There's cause for celebration in the world today. Nine months until my birthday. For all of you who still don't see the association, that means that I was conceived on this day 25 years ago. Okay, I probably wasn't really since the human gestation period isn't really 9 months exactly, and I was born about a week after my due date, but this is the easiest way to celebrate. I'd like to thank my parents for deciding to have sex on that night. The world is a much better place as a result. Happy Conception Day to me!

Scary Shit

There are a few reasons why I don't eat Chinese food. First, I can't stand how most of it tastes. Second, it messes with my bowels after. There is a little Chinese restaurant in Old Town that I actually like, and I ventured there for lunch yesterday. I enjoyed my peapod chicken and went on with my day.

I had to work at the Temple Theatre last night. After I got there, my stomach started churning, but I figured I could ignore it for a few hours until I got home. I couldn't though.

Rather then embarrass myself and use the same bathroom everyone listening to the concert was using, I would find a bathroom no one else was using. Keep in mind, this theatre is huge, was built in the 20's(or there about, I don't really know how old it is), and is rumored to haunted.

I left the side of the building the theater is on and decided to use the second floor ballroom bathroom. I was completely alone, and there were no lights on. I don't really believe in ghosts, but when you're in the situation I was in, your imagination starts to take the best of you. Every noise I heard was either some psychopath coming to kill me, or the singing ghost that roams the halls and balcony. I hoped for the ghost if I had to encounter one or the other.

As I sat there freaking out, I suddenly realized just how funny this situation was. Every time I watch a horror movie, I get angry at the person who decides to leave the group to explore or investigate a strange noise. Yet, here I was. Caught with my pants down, inviting someone to kill me.

Thanks Nikki

I got tired of looking for a picture to go with this post, so this is what you get. I wrote a post in the past about how much I hate to get my hair cut. I had to get my hair cut earlier this week, and it was a beautiful experience.

I always go to Regis to get my hair cut. It isn't always the best hair cut, but they can normally fit me in without much notice, so I like to go there. When I went this week, I met the best stylist in the world.

Nikki didn't feel the need to try to keep conversation going throughout my entire haircut. I know I sound really stuck up when I say this, but I hate making small talk with someone I don't know. It's just awkward. She made just the right amount of conversation to keep things fun, but without trying to get me to tell her my life story.

The best thing was when she was blending my hair. She had this look of utter concentration on her face. I normally don't look in the mirror when I'm getting my hair cut because it makes me feel like a complete ass to sit there checking myself out in the mirror. I couldn't help but watch her cut my hair though. It made me laugh inside.

I wouldn't say that my hair turned out better then it ever has after this cut, but it is far from the worst. I will definitely be requesting Nikki from now on. My hair will continue to change as it grows, but the bond I feel with Nikki will never change.

A New Look for Me

Do you think the guy in the picture is on steroids? I would guess he is, to the point of his testicles being about the size of a hamster's.
Anyhow, the inspiration for this post is because I'm thinking about joining a gym. My coworkers all got on the healthy bandwagon for the new year and joined Curves. I guess the male counterpart is located right next door, and they want me to join that one. I realize that if I were to join a gym, this would probably be the most ideal situation, I'd be motivated by my coworkers to go since they'll be stopping right next door. A little confidence in what I look like, after I start to develop some muscle tone, wouldn't hurt any because Lord knows I need that. There are drawbacks though.
First, I would have to go through monthly measurements to track my progress. I'm very well aware that I'm underweight. I don't really need someone to measure my waist and arms so they can tell me that. Also, I'm not comfortable lifting weights in front of other people. I don't want them to see how weak I am.

I Said Brrr, it's Cold in Here

Life just keeps getting worse this winter. This week has been the coldest week we've had all winter. It would figure that the heat in my car would stop working this week.

I went back to work from lunch on Monday, and turned off my car. I hadn't finished my cigarette yet, so I was going to sit outside and listen to the radio while I finished. I turned my car back on to roll up the window, and I realized my heat wasn't blowing.

This happens to me about every other year. I always leave my heat on full blast during the winter. If it gets too hot in my car, I just roll down the window. After awhile, the fan stops working...or something. My mechanic is always like, I've never had to fix the heat in one person's car as much as I do for you. It sucks because I don't have a day off until late next week, so I have to endure the blustery winter weather for awhile.

'Tis the Season

for ringworm. I've never had ringworm before, but I'm sure it would be gross to have it. Luckily for me, I won't have to wonder what it will be like to have it for much longer.
In the last week, I've dealt with three pets with this nasty fungal infection. Today, I actually had to deal with two cats with it. One of the reasons that I work in the animal field is so I don't have to deal with communicable diseases. Sure, there are zoonotic parasites and viruses to worry about. I even had a scare where I thought I was exposed to rabies once, but the odds of contracting an infection or sickness from animal is much lower then it would be from me getting it from a human if I worked in the human medical field.
I had the honor of shaving a cat with a horrible ringworm infection bald today. It really isn't as fun as it sounds to shave a cat. Not only was I unable to breathe by the end, since my allergies were so bad, but I also had strands of contaminated cat hair all over my face. I decided to use animal ringworm medicine all over my face when I was done, but it started to burn, so I had to wash it off right away.
About an hour later, another cat came in with ringworm. Since I'd already been exposed two other times this week, I figured, I may as well shave this one too. I'm getting really good at shaving cats, if I do say so myself. No use in having everyone come down with ringworm. I figured I would get more sympathy if I was the only one with it.
So, I wonder how bad my outbreak will be. I don't want my lesions to be on my face. Ideally, they will be in dirty places so I can say, "Do you want to see my ringworm?" and take off my clothes. That would be hot.

February

HAPPY FEBRUARY!!!!!!! I hate February more then any other month. Not only do we find ourselves in the middle of winter, with no end in sight, but Hallmark decided to use this month to remind me of what a looser I am. Valentine's Day blows. It wasn't always so bad. Amanda and I shared a special Valentine's Day a few years back. Neither of us had a date, so we decided to make a special occasion out of it together. There was dinner, gifts, and...well, nothing else really. I mean, we didn't do it or anything. Manders has grown up and got herself a man though. Me? I have no one, so it will be another lonely, depressing day reading candy hearts, wishing someone really thought U R cute about me. I refuse to be that lonely, depressed person this year. I'll find a date, even if it's through my blog. With that said, anyone interested, give me a call. I'll pay. Who knows, you may get lucky too. Ok, you will get lucky. I'm easy.

I'm so Hot

I'm so vain, it's sad. I realized last week that my hair seems to be thinning, so I did what any self-respecting boy would do when faced with this dilemma. I decided to dye my hair. Really, I don't know why I thought that would help, but at the time, it seemed completely reasonable.
I have relatively dark hair to begin with, so I decided to go darker...black actually. I used to dye my hair fairly frequently when I was younger. As I got older, I realized that I just look like an ass when I do, so stopped. I don't know why I thought this time would look any better.
I liked how it looked for the first few hours, but then it started to sink in that my hair was the same color as dirt, and would stay that way.
Sunday night, I decided to buy more dye and go back to my natural color. I bought a dark brown, and worked it down to the roots. Imagine my surprise to see that it didn't change my hair brown at all, but kept it black when I washed it out. My sister told me that I would have to dye my hair really light to get rid of the black, and then dye it darker again. I had already put dye in my hair twice in 48 hours, I couldn't do it two more times. My scalp was already getting irritated. I wish someone would have warned me how difficult it is to get your normal hair color back before I permanently ruined mine.