The people in this house must not have any nerve endings left because it is so cold that I can see my breath. I had to sleep with FIVE blankets on my bed last night, plus a t-shirt, sweatshirt with a hood and pajama pants. IT IS COLD. Turn up the damn heat.
I don't really feel like writing a lot because there are video games to play and ads to avoid creating, plus a nap hovering in the future. But I really like:
* Muppets
* The hat I finished yesterday
* Sleeping in front of the fireplace
* Bounce Out, the best game on Yahoo!
* Having 7/8 of my holiday shopping complete.
Hoo-rah.
I shouldn't be allowed to write on this thing afer midnight because I'm not always thinking straight past the ten o'clock news, but whatever. There's no chance of sleeping because Penny is in tough dog mode, barking her little lungs out (she sounds like a St. Bernard or something - it's kind of scary) because some jackass is driving around our neighborhood with an airhorn.
Wow. I didn't know she could howl.
I'm distracted now and don't feel like writing anything except to say I don't miss high school, I'm nothing like I used to be in high school and I can't understand why people keep trying to rehash it. Not that I don't have good memories or great friends, but I have a new life now. I'm done with petty games and all that crap. I'm happy where I am, finally doing what I like and being with people who I like. Why does that feel so wrong?
So I didn't do any homework yesterday. Big whoop because I'm going to do it right now, at the 8 a.m. mark. Ab and Mitch (aka Mitchy-Mitch, Petty Theft) are coming over around 3:00. I haven't seen Mitch in like, two years. At least that long. I'm a little nervous.
The Festival of Trees sucked. The only thing it had going for it were the old men giving out candy, and I didn't even take any. It kept my mom quiet, though. I had a lot of fun making fun of the trees with my dad. Our favorite one had two legs, a pair of skis and some arms coming out of it - Santa crashed into the Christmas tree.
Texas Roadhouse is a great place to eat, even greater when we put the free peanuts in my stocking cap.
Then I came home and made some Christmas presents for the masses. If you give me your address, far-away blog friends, I will send you some of these treasures. I watched the
Real World, but it wasn't as good without my girl KJ. And Irulan needs some anger management classes.
The Osbournes was so-so - I think I'm over that. It was so not as good as
FM Nation. I am disappointed in MTV.
Then, because I am 85, I went to bed.
My mother is wrecking havoc on the blogging world.
From the twin's comment spot: "I don't know you--at least I don't think I do but I linked to your blog thru Justin Marciniak's. Justin is "going with" (Kristin would call that term, very middle school) my daughter, Kristin Buel. But I did enjoy reading your thoughts. Kristin introduced me to this medium and I have been blogging for almost 2 months. I am constantly confused by Justin's blog but most of your made sense to me except for the FLAVA part. What the hell is that?"
There are so many reasons (such as "going with" -- how old
are you?) that I should be embarrassed by my own mother, but the last sentence makes me laugh so much that I am glad that we are too much alike for our own good.
Sorry to scare you,
Clare, but yeah, my mom reads your blog. Sunday night, the disembodied voice yells from the computer room to me in the kitchen, "Who is Clare Martin?" And I said, "She's a former FARCer with awesome hair and we used to play tricks on Adrian." And she responded, "You should have married him."
Bringing us to the top three guys my mom thinks I should marry:
1. Hammer "The L is for Love" Lauritsen
2. Adrian (which is impossible because I am his sister)
3. Justin
Unfortunately, Adrian is already married, Hammer quotes The
Outlaw Josie Wales on a daily basis and I am madly in love with Justin. So too bad, Lady.
I'm awake because I had a bad dream involving a foster sister/brother, Katie down the street, acid and Abby's boyfriend. I'm trying to forget it. And I'm hungry. Maybe I will go sleep with the dog for awhile.
Speaking of the dog, it turns out she's jealous of me because she's not the baby anymore. Ha ha ha ha ha ha. I get to sit with my dad on the couch, I get to sit with my mom in bed and she can't do any of it. But she's not mad at me - she's mad at them. I taught that dog well.
Abby came over and watched
Erin Brockovich last night and I forgot we lived together. It was like, Woah! Abby! I missed you so much!
After I wake up again, I'm going to the dentist, Michael's (for all my craft needs), and SuperTarget for grocery shopping. The Buels (minus P) are going to the Fesitval of Trees and then to Texas Roadhouse for dinner. It's going to be a great day. Unfortunately, I need to spend a large chunk of it doing homework. Damn my teachers and the horses they rode in on.
When you are almost two, everyone wants to play with you all the time. When you are almost two, you can sleep whenever you want. When you are almost two, you can make someone mad and then three minutes later they love you again. When you are almost two, you like to kiss everyone you meet. When you are almost two, you cry when your big sister goes upstairs and you can't go too.
Penny Lane is almost two. At this time last year she was biting hands and running away. Now she's carrying two toys at once and watching birds out "her" window. There never was a more wonderful dog (except Maggie, but that goes without saying. Penny knows she will never be as good as Maggie - I tell her that at least once a day.).
Today the Buel girls (P included) went to the pet store where we met a bird that talked to Penny and some very small dogs wearing coats. Then we came home and took naps. Then we had lunch with Dad. Then we took more naps. I went to LeClaire (city motto: Don't waste your time, it's just LeClaire) with my mom to browse through some knick-knacky stores. Then home for crocheting. Then dinner. Then
Sum of All Fears and
Wet Hot American Summer (note: parents don't really get that movie).
We went out with The Gang last night and I am definitely scarred for life. I don't think I'll ever get to the point where I'll be able to talk about it without having a seizure.
I'm all jittery inside. I am so excited to go home. I am so excited to finally get to see Justin for the first time since Sunday night. (Well, we've
seen each other but not been able to you know, have an extended conversation.)
I think I'm all packed for home. You listen to me, little golden retriever: I'm only bringing enough socks home for 10 days. So you better not get any big ideas.
I have an entire bag filled with textbooks and notebooks and another filled with "free reading" books and a hat. Remember "free reading"? Nanie took a class where all you did was read for the whole quarter. I think they had to write like two book reports or something. I totally missed out on that one. Meanwhile, I was taking a class where my teacher would tell us all about his sex life (and his stepson was in my grade - very uncomfortable). Ah, AP English, how you taught me nothing and didn't get me out of English 20.
Will and Grace was so good tonight. I especially liked the outtakes when Karen said, "I could hump a tree."
Right on, sister.
Ladies, this one is for you:
the hottest pictures you have ever seen. Scroll down to Wed., Nov. 13. Mmmm. That was the best way to start my day. I swear you won't be disappointed.
I just wanted to let everyone know that Justin Timberlake broke his foot. So he can't dance for awhile. What good is he then? (Well, I think those pictures answer that question.) Sure, he can sing, but his songs are just so
sad. Again I ask, what did that girl do to him? It's like she ripped out his heart with a pitchfork and drove a John Deere tractor over it. Good lord.
My Justin is a Slave 4 Vox.
Speaking of Britney, she's recording again. I read this in her mother's online diary on Britney's website. I don't have a lot of friends, you see. And I gotta keep up with BritBrit.
I try to think of my favorite bands and I really can't (besides the obvious). I really really really love Alicia Keys, but she's not a band. When I think band, I think high schoolers playing Souza marches. I dated a guy in a band once. It was called Don't Excite the Retard (or DETR for short). The "retard" was our friend Nic. He would slam himself against walls. He was also the drummer. I know it was all terribly politically incorrect, but those boys played some mean 80s covers. Of course, I was so uncultured back in my high school days that I thought they actually wrote "Why Don't We do it in the Road" (or whatever it's called) and that it was the funniest song I ever heard. Maybe that's why I don't like the Beatles.
At least they didn't play Gary Neuman's "Cars." That is the worst song EVER.
I have one hour and fifteen minutes to write a mystery story. Wooo! It's all planned out because our group ROCKS. I think I might get scared while I write it, though. It's about an impregnating rapist and nobody else is home here.
I took a huge nap and when I woke up there was a big scary man wrestling with our furnace. I'm not quite sure why.
I have cuts all over my hands. Abby thinks I prune things in my sleep. I don't really know what's going on with that. I don't even own pruning sheers.
Why am I awake?
I had a dream about Mike Flynn. I saw him and cried. I woke up very sad. And then I went back to sleep.
Pacifism makes me tired.
KJ - I love Tuesdays, too. They are by far my favorite days, and not just because of Skippy and G.
Nobody who ever lived in FARC can tell me that they never had some sort of crush on
this guy at one time or another. I mean, let's be honest with ourselves. I miss ya, twin.
In other New Blog News:
She is a teacher that let me work on the newspaper during intermission in my costumes.
She survived the basement from hell with me and is one of my favorite people.
And, well, yes...still my
mother.
Best thing I heard all day:
"Listen, I don't care if you're on pills. I'm not gonna be one of those people!" -- Amy, when I refused to skip class with her (and we are NOT still in a fight, so just get over it, okay? I'm not afraid of you. Or your Cheez-Its.)
I have this problem where I can't leave the library without at least six books. I guess it's better than heroin.
Hmmm.
Roxy is very happy now that her tank is clean. She was not very happy when I tried to ladle her out of it.
I am on the brink of self-destruction. I'm considering implosion or disintegration.
It's at times like these that I ask myself, "WWPD?" (For those of you not in the know, "What Would Penny Do?")
Penny would eat something that doesn't belong to her and then take a nap somewhere she's not supposed to be.
Actually, that's the best idea I've heard all day.
Perhaps this explains my current state of mind.
Which Personality Disorder Do You Have? brought to you by Quizilla
I'm worn out.
My hair is dark.
And a little shorter. But nobody will notice that because it is dark.
I think I like it. Abby likes it a lot. Nobody else has seen it. It's semi-permanent, meaning it will wash out in about a month. So that's cool. I think it's kind of the color that Julia Roberts has when she dyes her hair dark - was it like that in
America's Sweethearts? Well, whatever movie it is, it looks like that. And it's very soft and smells very good. When I got it cut yesterday, all the bleached stuff from camp got cut off anyway and I don't think I've seen my real hair color since high school. I think this might be close to it - it even matches my eyebrows.
So to answer your question, yes, I got my hair cut yesterday and colored today. I highly recommend Mia and Maxx for all of your hair needs.
Justin's in Kansas, Abby's going on a date and Chrissy disappeared last night, so it's me, a frozen pizza and a lot of yarn tonight. I'm also planning on devouring another book. I finished
Bookends by Jane Green this morning and I think it's much better than
Mr. Maybe and a little better than
Jemina J (which was actually very good).
I think I will take a bath.
I just saw Jon Sessions and my day has become infinitely better. I imagine this is what it feels like to kiss the Pope's ring or see God. Anyway, I'm a mite bit happier now.
I hate the world so I'm going to get my hair cut. I found a really good deal at a new place and I don't want my hair "Daryl-fied" anymore. I forgot my glasses and my lunch today, so I'm blind and hungry. I really just want someone to play with my hair.
We have a new roommate! Her name is Adhar and she is very very nice and likes to cook and eat and craft. I am so happy. I am not happy that Chrissy is leaving, so I'm going to tie her up and put her under my bed and she will never leave. Well, maybe not. I'm not in search of a police record. But a non-scary roommate is good news, especially after some of the people we've met/talked to.
Update: Abby says she's not sick - she sometimes just throws up. I say, if you're gonna spew, spew in this.
I am going to read and craft all weekend long. And sleep. Sleep sleep sleep.
Justin, I know I'm going to forget to tell you this, but the Flaming Lips are going to be on some WB show on Sunday night I think.
Things I want to do when I get back to Iowa:
1. Take Penny to Devil's Glen Park with the Bs and play in the leaves.
2. Make bread with my mom.
3. Play darts with my dad.
4. Watch a lot of DVDs.
5. Go to Best Buy.
6. Have waffles for breakfast ala CB.
7. See The Gang.
8. Wake up my mom and jump on her bed.
9. MAYBE go for a walk with Mom, Joan, Penny and Bannie.
10. See my little twins.
11. Have a "Buel Family Board Game" night.
12. See the new James Bond movie on Thanksgiving.
13. Watch the West Wing in the same room with my dad for the first time all season.
14. Go to Village Inn with Ab and Miss.
15. Have a sleepover with Mitch (but I am not sleeping anywhere near him).
16. See Helene's new house.
17. Play with the Emmerson's kitten.
18. Christmas shop for Justin.
19. Nap every afternoon on the couch so I will wake up with a huge dog nose in my face.
20. Go to that awesome yarn shop in Milan.
That's all I can think of now. Print this off, Ladybird, and we'll check them off as we go. You make a list, too. You too, Daddy-O. Love you.
I just had my senior interview at the journalism school and let me say it was the disappointment of a lifetime. They tell you to bring your portfolio and resume but you don't have to dress up
too much - the interviewers just want to see what you learned. So I got everything all together and finally finished my portfolio, even spent an ungodly amount of money for 80 sheets of resume paper and what happens? She doesn't even look at it and asks me about the best and worst classes I've ever taken. Which was a good thing, I guess, because I finally got to lambast a certain strategic writing jackass. But this is a Wednesday, the only day I don't have to dress up because I'm not at the News Bureau. So I'm a little peeved. That's 10 minutes of my life I cannot get back.
In happier news, I missed only two points on my philosophy test. I am a Vietnam star. Not something I am particularly proud of.
We made cookies last night. I know how Subway gets theirs to be really flat - they don't turn the oven up high enough. Just like me.
I started a new blanket - the ugliest blanket in the world is on hiatus - and it's so cool but I'm not going to tell
you about it unless you call me after West Wing tonight. You are going to be sooooooooooooo jealous you didn't make it first.
Erin Tuttle - in the words of *NSYNC, you make my heart sing.
My heinous mood has passed. Forthcoming period + forgetting to take prozac until late in the day = very sad, prone to tears Kristin. BUT surprise of boyfriend at my doorstep + ice cream sundae + holding boyfriend's hand after I had a terribly scary dream in which people started shooting machine guns at the News Bureau = Kristin feeling better.
And I don't have to work this morning la la la la la but I do have to call a man at KMIZ to get his rate card. And tonight I get to see two of my best girls, Amy and Kate (hopefully with time to study in between). And tomorrow maybe I will see someone I haven't seen for quite awhile for our WW date. And maybe one of these days I will see Abby because sometimes she doesn't come home.
Running late, as per usual. Roxy is asleep.
Should Penny have a blog? Let
me know. It would be called "What Penny Ate," much like Gilda Radner's "What Gilda Ate" on the first year of SNL. She just got up there and said what she ate and that was the joke. But now it's actually very sad because she threw up everything she ate.
Penny Lane, on the other hand, does not throw up what she eats. Only when she's given hydrogen peroxide.
I think I am incredibly homesick. Reading about all of my friends being excited to go home makes me want to be home this minute. For the past three years I've been either Justin-sick or homesick at all times. This summer I was both and it totally sucked. During Christmas I don't have to be either for a few days. Those are great days.
Actually, now that I think of it, I
am kind of Justin-sick. It's nice just to be in the same room. We don't have to be talking or anything, but I like to be able to look up from my book and smile at him. I generally hate my smile because it looks like my face vomited, but my smiles for him seem different.
I do not have the strength to sit through media planning today. I'm going to maim that little 12 year-old brat with the long blond hair and the high pitched voice.
I want to take off my shoes.
Things I did today that would make my dad proud:
Got my oil changed
Got air in my tires
Polished 4 pairs of shoes
Ate some awesome mustard/onion pretzels
Things I did today that would make my mom proud:
Cleaned my room
Cleaned my bathroom
Took a two-hour nap
Read a whole frickin' lot
Vacuumed
Things I did today that made me proud:
Remembered to wear my glasses while driving (well, that was actually last night)
Had a toasted peanut butter and jelly sandwich
I would like to tell everyone a story about how great I am. When I was in high school, all my friends were amazing singers and would win first place in solo musical theater at the state thespian festival. Well, the truth is that I was SO GOOD that they couldn't give me any awards and actually, I wasn't allowed to compete, because I would make everyone else look so bad. It would be like, "First, second and third place go to Kristin Buel for her rendition of "Bad, Bad Man." " Because at the time, I was a very bad man, badder than Mike Flynn's Frank Butler could ever be. I was enlighted but frightened though my interest was heightened.
(Or maybe that is all a lie. You will never know. Unless you have heard me sing.)
But anyway, because I was SO GOOD, Melissa Mooney (who is now at Indiana University studying opera - she is going to be a star some day, let me tell you) gave me a trophy at the end of the school year because she felt she just couldn't compete. That trophy had a bowler on top and a computer-paper inscription that read "Kristin Buel - Winner of All Solo Musical Theater."
Well, maybe not (what I mean is, yes, I do have that trophy but not for those precise reasons). But I once won a BMX bike in a school raffle when I was six. It was purple.
Blog of the day:
theredsweater(dot)com. I don't know Jamie and we will probably never meet, but I feel that we would be friends.
I got my oil changed this morning. Get frustrated with one man and then go find another who can fix your car, that's what I always say. But I highly endorse the Jiffy Lube on Nifong - they even vacuumed the inside of my car (which hasn't been done since my camp days).
Speaking of camp, I keep having dreams about it. We're talking every night here. It's really starting to freak me out.
Today I will:
Clean my room
Change my sheets
Vacuum the house
Crochet
Finish watching
Footloose (even though I can recite all of it - "Why'd he send you?" "I volunteered.")
Make banana bread
Read two chapters in my social psychology book
Continue reading
Backpack (a pretty good, but not fabulous, book)
...all before 6 p.m.
But now I am getting back in bed.
I think if I had a dog of my own I would be a lot happier. I miss Penny like hell. She swallowed a sock yesterday. Really. Swallowed it whole.
Read about it.
Everyone in this house has been dating their significant other for more than two years now. Incredible. It's a nice thing because even though they might wake up mad at you for something you did in their dream, you know it won't last and they will feel bad for yelling at you. If they know what's good for them, that is.
I woke up a half hour early to get to el library to do el research but I am being el slowpoke.
I have part of a Justin Timberlake song in my head (I got the CD for $10 at Wal-Mart!) and it's a sing along where he and Pharrel pretend to be girls. It's a great song.
I had a dream that I had a puppy and a cat and they were friends and slept cuddled up next to each other. I also had hamsters.
Agh! Wasting time!
*Note to Penny: Stop eating soap. That's disgusting and will not make you any friends. Stick to socks.
Mayor Ann did not win. Mayor Ann did not even win in Scott County.
Mayor Ann, it's okay. You're better than that. I didn't even know who that other guy was and he was the incumbant. Clearly unimpressive.
I found a dead bird on my way to class today. He was lying in front of a window at the law school. He must have hit the window full force. I think he was a little finch. I couldn't stand to see him on the sidewalk so I got some paper out of my bag and picked him up with it (because people are very worried that dead animals have diseases, which I've never really understood, but I didn't want to freak people out if I was using my bare hands). I had to pet him because I just couldn't help myself. He was so soft and I felt so bad. I made him a little bed at the back of a little garden. The whole thing made me very sad.
I am thoroughly unimpressed with Election Day 2002. Big freakin' deal. I didn't vote because I'm not a Missouri resident yet I still don't really live in Iowa, so I shouldn't be voting anywhere. Anyway, I would just vote for the females on the ballot no matter what, which isn't a good method. (But I would vote for Mayor Ann from the bottom of my heart because we had our pictures taken together when I was seven.) I guess I just don't understand how this election will change anything since George just does pretty much what he wants no matter what Congress says. My War and Peace class has me disillusioned and upset with the government for stuff that happened 35 years ago, but better late than never. I just don't trust anyone that thinks the only way to make a difference is to raise money to promote their image and spend two years sitting in a state building. That's ridiculous. I mean, if they went out there and were actually helping teachers in the classroom and working at free clinics and picking up garbage with other government workers, well, that would be different. It would be a reason for me to vote. Instead, I'm just guaranteeing them a job for the next two years where, essentially, they will argue and get nothing done. I wish people would give
me money and guarantee me a job, too.
But that's all boring.
I babysat tonight. Marina, who is two, and I tried to find Waldo. I couldn't find him on the first page and boy, did I feel dumb. She couldn't either, but then again, she's two and I'm 21. So I definitely need to bone up before I babysit again (although I'm afraid that part of my life is over).
I've had a sad day.
That's all.
So Justin Timberlake's CD is being released in like, 14 minutes, and I'm afraid that I don't have the will to get into the car, go to Wal-Mart, spend money I don't have and drive back. Justin, I'm going to get the CD, just wait until Wednesday when I get paid.
My allegience has decreased considerably since the night/morning that Abby, Nanie, Miss and I went to Wal-Mart at 11:58 p.m. to get *NSYNC's
Celebrity even though we all had to work at the buttcrack of dawn the next morning. But when you break up with Britney Spears, that's what happens. (For the record, I would not break up with Britney. She's a looker. But, again, she was the idiot who cheated on him. Kids.)
My fish looks really sad. Maybe she has a headache, too. I've had once for nearly eight hours now.
Do you think dogs ever get headaches? Mom, ask P about that.
Oh! Roxy's awake and mad as hell (probably because I picked up her tank and pressed my nose against it). That's my cue to go to bed.
Happy anniversary, Justin. I love you.
I do not know these
people. I swear to god. (But look at that cute guy on the left in the first picture. And if you find Rod Stewart, odds are she's related to me.) Happy birthday, Ma Nasty.
I kicked that Philosophy of War and Peace test's butt. I mean, really. I finally figured out how to study for that test - fill out the study guide while you read things the first time. Duh. I didn't have to stay up late at all.
I made a "Craft Corner" for myself in my room. I moved a few things around and now I have a nice little spot to sit and read, craft and study. I didn't really have any place to sit before, and I don't want to drag all my crap downstairs and leave it on the kitchen table. I have a habit of doing that and I'm sorry. (I'm not sorry when I do that in Iowa because I do not fear the BOE and they have to be reminded of how much they miss me.)
I had a huge breakfast (oatmeal and a banana) and I'm hungry already! Why is this?
Long-lost quotes from the International Thespian Festival, Lincoln, Nebraska, June 1998:
"Yesterday's word of the day was 'ravishing.' Today's is 'sensuous." -- John Kleinschmidt and Hammer
"He tried to hold my hand. And then he asked me to be his damn girlfriend. I mean, he lives in damn West Virginia." -- Kristin Brunt
"You know, I'd normally share a worm with you baby, but dammitt, the tequila's not enough anymore. I need you." -- Abby, portraying a boy from New Mexico
"He mounted her, rode her across the dance floor, and I was sorry." -- Abby
"If she asks for change one more time I'm gonna stick that $5 up her butt." -- Annie, about everyone's favorite oppressed person
"Winnie-the-Pooh, do you want to play a game? (listens to a stuffed toy) No, Winnie-the-Pooh doesn't feel like playing a game!" -- Christopher Robin in
Winnie-the-Pooh
"I felt like a whore because I didn't know his last name, so I'm telling people that his first name is "J" and his last name is "D." -- Kristi Wagner
Mitch: My throat's numb.
Me: That's nice, Mitch.
Mitch: I have an earring.
-- a "Canka" conversation
A fan of:
Baths
Dogs
Books
Eating
Not a fan of:
War
Diets
Girls who think they are fat
College sports
Malaria
I have read 10 kabillion pages about Vietnam in the past week, and I feel like I, too, spent some time in the "splendid little war." Now I must do what every shell-shocked Vet does - consume alcohol. (Was that really out of line and mean? I don't mean it to be, it's just the truth. In all the books I'm reading, everyone becomes alcoholics. Nobody suddenly becomes this fabulous moral person.)
The Knit and Crochet Out went very well. It was nice to just sit around and talk and enjoy other crocheters' company.
It's study time. Whee!
In the immortal words of Nelly, "I like it when you uh-uh."
