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Wednesday, August 26, 2009

Sort Of

I am attempting to go on a diet.

Why, you may ask? Oh, because I went to put on my favorite pair of jeans and had to do a pants dance because they got stuck halfway up my ass. I was in denial for a few days, until I decided that I need to get back into a routine with my running and Pilates and all that not-so-fun exercise crap.

I just need to find TIME. I think the whole Cash for Clunkers thing was when I gained weight--think about it. I'd wake up, eat, go to work, get home late, eat, then pass out by midnight. I was virtually drained. But now that Clunkers is over, I have more time for me, and I can try to get back into the swing of things.

Only it's not as easy as it sounds in my head. I tried some exercises last night and didn't feel the burn or anything. I was a tad discouraged, but I refuse to let the jeans win. They're actually in a crumpled pile in the same spot I threw them in disgust on Friday night. I know they're mocking me, the stuck up bastards that they are. It's my fault, though. I gave up drinking soda pop, but I didn't give up fast food, which is my downfall. I'd grab a double cheeseburger from McDonald's on the way to work or run next door to Baskin Robbins for a cup of ice cream or a milk shake. I feel like shaking my fist across the parking lot and screaming, "Damn you, Baskin Robbins! Damn you for having such delicious ice cream..."


I have always been curvy, even though I've always been on the small side. I love having curves, and my problem is that I don't realize how much weight I may or may not have put on until I go to put on an article of clothing that used to be either loose or tight and is no longer what it used to be. I'm not naturally athletic, but I have a fast metabolism...I think I only weigh around 138 pounds, but I'm only 5'1", which squeezes all that into a small frame. Damn me for being short. Damn Baskin Robbins and their delicious ice cream. Damn all the stupid girls in their skinny jeans. Damn my lack of dietary willpower. Damn, damn, damn.

I'm thinking about going for a run tonight when I get home. Just throw the iPod on and go. I'm pretty fit, just bad at throwing on the brakes when I'm eating.

Blahhhhhh.

Friday, August 21, 2009

Mouthwash

Okay. I feel a bit of blog lovin' right now.
A few weeks ago, Yankee Girl (Adventures of a Yankee Girl) sent me a very lovely award, called the Honest Scrap Award. Yay!!! (Collective rounds of applause, please) Due to the insanity of Cash for Clunkers, I didn't have the precious time to indulge in my award...Nonetheless, I am muy flattered, seeing as this is my first award, and so, I'd like to thank the Academy and everyone out there who gave this little blog a chance...

Ha, ha.

Here are the rules:

1. “The Honest Scrap” award is not one to hold all to your self but it must be shared!
2. The recipient has to tell 10 true things about themselves in their blog that no one else knows.
3. The recipient has to pass along this prestigious award to 10 more bloggers.
4. Those 10 bloggers all have to be notified they have been given this award.
5. Those 10 bloggers should link back to the blog that awarded them.


Hmm...Ten true things about me that no one knows...

1. I am deathly afraid of squirrels. I know I've hinted at my dislike of these furry hounds of hell, but I am, in all honesty, terrified of them. They're so jumpy. I'm scared I'm going to get bit and then have to get rabies shots.

2. In sixth grade, I had my own fan club. I made it up, and the only people in it were me and my best friend from grade school. We had membership cards made of notebook paper, laminated with contact paper. It was both unbelievably badass, and looking back, hilarious.

3. The title to nearly every post I have written is a song title, in homage to my insane love of music. I don't know how many of you caught that beforehand, but kudos to the ones that did!

4. My first crush was Jonathan Taylor Thomas, of Home Improvement fame. I think nearly every girl at the age of 11 (back in 1996) had a JTT poster hanging on their wall.

5. I blew out the microphone during my song in the talent show in 8th grade. I won second place, and learned a valuable lesson: When singing Christina Aguilera, one should keep the mic at least five inches from their mouth. Always. At all times.

6. I was in Who's Who Among American High School Students my sophomore and junior years at St. Joe's.

7. I learned to read when I was three and a half.

8. I have never driven an automobile. Well, I drove a Go-Kart, but I don't think that counts.

9. I got a 26 out of 36 on my ACT. I surprised my guidance counselor with that one my senior year. Stupid skank. I still don't really know how to do a quadratic equation, so there. That's what she gets for calling me to her office during Intro to College Algebra just to tell me I'm failing.

10. I like to read the Little House books. I know I'm 23, but there's just something about Laura Ingalls Wilder that I love! I've read them all at least five times. (I know. I'm a nerd.)


I'm going to pass this on to the mahhhhvelous blogs I've been following that I enjoy...Check them out and show 'em some love!








Sunday, August 16, 2009

Clint Eastwood

So...Last night was the MMA fight. Dude, it sucked. Unbelievably sucked.

Just kidding! It was AWESOME. Like Jesus walking on water awesome. I had to sell tickets, so I missed the first 3 matches, but...I never knew I'd like watching two guys beat the crap out of each other in a cage so much!

One of the fights (sponsored by our dealership) started out great. The one opponent was from Chicago (blue team), the other from Akron (red team). I wanted the guy from Chicago to win, and it looked just like maybe he would, until the dude from Akron pushed up against the cage and grappled (I think that's what it's called) with him. I personally thought it looked like they were hugging. Turns out that hugging is the Akron guy's favorite move, when he isn't "accidentally" kicking the guy in the crotch. My table was screaming and booing and yelling at the referee (myself included) to break the two up. The red guy won, much to a lot of people in the audience's chagrin.

The rest of the fights were awesome, the awesomeness amplified by the drinks I had. The best fight in my opinion was Bobby Jones, this ex-NFL player who lives in Wadsworth. He was part of the heavyweight match, and his opponent tapped out in like four minutes in the first round. It was badass! I stood on a chair for that one. They also had their first title match last night, and this welterweight from Cleveland (you know I was really loud for that one) won the belt.


It's really hard to put all the fun into words. I had a great time, and it was kind of cool to be the only girl at our table. It was even cooler to be the only girl at the table and to be louder than most of the guys! (My favorite line was "fuck him up!") I definitely plan on going to the next one in October, and I definitely plan to tell you guys all about it!

Saturday, August 15, 2009

You Haven't Told Me Anything

What is it with "serious" artists being assholes?

I'm getting ahead of myself, so let me backtrack.

Last night I went to the Feast of the Assumption festival of shenanigans with Tricia and Josh. It's an annual event they hold in Little Italy, off Mayfield Road...It's been going on for like 111 years, so it's a cultural thing in Cleveland.

So, we roll into the parking lot over by the Case Western, and I see a security guard guy chilling on the curb. He's got this crazy looking Elvis meets Superman 'do, complete with the lone curl in the center of the forehead. I take this as a good sign, as does Tricia. When we pull into the spot where we're supposed to park, there's this parking attendant who obviously is a starving actor/college student reading The Pelican Brief. We have a few laughs amongst ourselves about that, and go on our merry way.

We go past a procession of parked motorcycles, parked police cruisers, and under a bridge that had this really foul smelling mud, then...I smell fried deliciousness, and Nirvana. There's a street that has the delightful name of Random, which I took as the ultimate sign that it was going to be a crazy, interesting night.

We wandered casually up the hill to Murray Hill, taking in all the Italian and non-Italian people chowing down on yummy Italian cuisine and perusing the art galleries that seem to be on every corner. I see this one gallery that is having a moving sale and everything is like 20 to 50% off. I casually mention this to Tricia, since her and Josh just bought a house and need some classy art to hang up for potentially awkward conversation starters. We look in the window at this one painting that we know Tricia most likely will not afford. I joke with her that we should take a picture of it and give it to Tiffany, her younger sister who is very artsy, and have her copy it. We open the door, and are greeted by a surly-looking Italian guy and his equally friendly-looking family sitting on a couch.

Turns out he heard my joke and thought I was serious, though mind you, I was not. He made a smart remark about us taking pictures and stealing people's art, which just wasn't true. We're not exactly art pirates. He goes on to say that if he catches us taking any pictures, he'll throw us out. We roll our eyes and go over to look at some of his art, which wasn't actually all that very good and naturally very overpriced. We whisper about Signor Asshole and are on our way to the back of the shop when we hear him still talking about us, the "girls who take pictures and make copies". Tricia is starting to get upset, and I think he is being a bit melodramatic and a lot asshole.

We are studying a collage of the Cavaliers and LeBron James when we hear the door open and some other customers stroll on in. Art Asshole Extraordinaire tells them to look around and that he'd let them go upstairs but not now because there were "these girls who take pictures of paintings and copy them", like we're professional counterfeiters. Tricia decides she's had enough and tersely informs him that we're taking our money elsewhere, and we roll out like some badass gangsters in a mobster movie, only without the guns.

We vent our anger to Josh, who suggests we let it go and go eat. We go to this Italian restaurant that looks straight out of The Godfather or Goodfellas, and promptly sit down at the bar. Wine is ordered, and I discover a few things about myself and wine: 1.)I don't like red wine, 2.)I shouldn't hold it in my mouth, no matter how untasty I think it is, and 3.)I'm thinking that perhaps wine is an acquired taste and that I don't see myself as a wine lover in the near future. I also discover that I have a knack for insulting Italian-Americans. I guess I'm a freak in the Italian world because I was eating bread and taking off the crust. I thought I was doing all right, dipping my bread in olive oil just as Josh and Tricia were doing, although I was doing more sipping of water than of wine, but NOOOO. I'm an aberration to Little Italy because I don't like the crust on their bread. Jesus.

I come to the conclusion that I do not like wine, and give it to Tricia. She drinks mine, and I want to go back out on the street because I think that I can't make an ass of myself if we're in the crush of people outside. Outside we go, and I go buy some cheese ravioli (verry good, by the way), and sit on the sidewalk and eat. We joke that we should run by that stupid shop and take a picture just to piss that guy off, but Josh quickly shot that brilliant idea down. After we ate, we went to the Holy Rosary Church to get our gamble on (that's how us Catholics roll). After losing our money to the church, we went back outside and wandered the streets aimlessly. I bought some yummy tiramisu and while I'm eating, Tricia sees a Ferris Wheel and offers up the idea that we should go ride some rides.

We buy some tickets and Tricia sees this crazy ride that spins you upside down and looks altogether dangerous and unsafe, and she immediately wants to ride it. We have only enough tickets for one ride, but Tricia has a way with people, and we get a free ride out of the guy. It was like cheating death...I hate carnival rides. They're just screaming of potential disaster.

Before we leave, we manage to piss off another person. Tricia saw this ride operator who looked like Li'l Jon, from the hair to the glasses to the cap, and she yells "Oookaaaayyy" in true Li'l Jon fashion. He was not impressed.

All in all it was a good night. Tonight is the MMA fight, and like I said earlier, I hope it does not disappoint.

Friday, August 14, 2009

Untitled 1

Hmm. It's been a while, eh?

Not too much has gone down. I registered Nicky for Head Start. I fell up the stairs and bruised my leg up pretty good. I got locked in after closing at work. I bought a badass Michael Jackson tee shirt.

I've decided that I am indeed pretty awesome. I'd like to make or buy a tee shirt that reaffirms that sentiment. I have not drank soda in like three months, which is pretty damn impressive. I'd like to say that I rock.

I have a touch of writer's block, which may or may not be due to the fact that nothing funny has really happened this week. I'm going to a MMA (mixed martial arts) fight tomorrow night, which should inspire a humorous post in the upcoming days. Just think about it, okay? Angry, sweaty guys in a cage. Fighting. In a cage. There's humor written all over it.

Til then, as always...XO

Tuesday, August 11, 2009

Playing Along

I got my ass kicked by a 4 year old this morning. Seriously. How many people can say that?

Lashawn (1:36 PM): nicky kicked my ass in his sleep
Tricia (1:36 PM): hahaha!!
Lashawn (1:36 PM): no seriously
Lashawn (1:37 PM): I went to give him a kiss this morning when i got up n he like jolted up n busted me in my lip
Tricia (1:37 PM): ohhh no!!!
Tricia (1:37 PM): I thought like he kicked u in the rear while u were sleeping
Lashawn (1:37 PM): my tooth went thru my lip
Lashawn (1:38 PM): my lip was bleeding n was swelled
Tricia (1:38 PM): ouch!!! I'm sorry!!
Lashawn (1:38 PM): I had to hold ice on it for 2 hours
Lashawn (1:38 PM): it's ok
Tricia (1:39 PM): u poor thing!!
Tricia (1:39 PM): kids are stinkers

Tricia (1:44 PM): Didn't think of u as a "ultimate fighter"

Yeah, so that was an interesting beginning to an interesting day.

I also discovered that I am a popcorn gangsta and a coffee maverick. I made popcorn out in the showroom (we have one of those crazy movie theater popcorn machines) and coffee for like the first time ever. (I have never made coffee once in my entire life. Seriously.) I also got hopped up on a chocolate milkshake from Baskin Robbins.

It was a good day, aside from the busted lip. I was enjoying myself. I thought I was, in fact, pretty awesome. I had made some kickass popcorn and coffee (I think it probably tasted like trucker coffee...I put like 10 scoops of coffee in the top of the machine.), I had drank a tasty shake, and I was feeling pretty badass.

But, as always, what goes up must inevitably come down. And so it did. Let me share another excerpt of my conversation with Tricia:

Lashawn (5:14 PM): HOMESLICE!
Lashawn (5:15 PM): where have u been all my life?
Lashawn (5:15 PM): well...the past half-hour
Tricia (5:15 PM): LOL!!
Tricia (5:15 PM): Trying to close up this day!!
Lashawn (5:15 PM): I'm feeling a bit blue
Tricia (5:15 PM): oh no why???
Tricia (5:16 PM): I'm blue dabbity dabbitaaaa...
Lashawn (5:16 PM): so my boss's niece is working all week @ lakewood
Lashawn (5:16 PM): n I have bee working there for nearly a year
Lashawn (5:16 PM): but she's been there 2 days n she's like their new BFF
Lashawn (5:16 PM): n they don't show me that kind of love
Lashawn (5:17 PM): so I think it's b/c she is like a freaking d cup
Lashawn (5:17 PM): n I'm not
Lashawn (5:17 PM): I feel like I don't have a good enough rack or something
Lashawn (5:17 PM): lol
Lashawn (5:17 PM): but seriously
Lashawn (5:17 PM): I do
Tricia (5:18 PM): OMGOSH!
Tricia (5:18 PM): u so have a rack... forget about that bimbo hoochy
Lashawn (5:18 PM): I feel like my rack is subpar
Tricia (5:18 PM): she's related that's why they are kissing ass!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Tricia (5:18 PM): LOL...
Lashawn (5:18 PM): she made them wristbands
Tricia (5:19 PM): WHAT???
Lashawn (5:19 PM): n they bought her lunch
Lashawn (5:19 PM): they NEVER buy me lunch
Lashawn (5:19 PM): I eat crackers n jello
Tricia (5:19 PM): DUDE!! ITS BECAUSE SHE IS RELATED TO THE BOSS... look, if they are mean, she will tell the boss and they will get yelled at
Tricia (5:19 PM): bunch of brown nosed kiss asses!!
Lashawn (5:20 PM): n she's a d cup
Lashawn (5:20 PM): don't forget that
Lashawn (5:20 PM): n she's 18
Lashawn (5:20 PM): n I'm pushing my expiration date
Lashawn (5:24 PM): I need a better push-up
Lashawn (5:24 PM): and some new v-necks
Tricia (5:25 PM): Your not pushing your experation date LMAO LMAO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Tricia (5:25 PM): that shit was funny!!


It shouldn't bother me, but it does. I have worked at that store every (well, almost every) Friday for practically a year. No one offers to buy me lunch. I don't make anyone wristbands, because, well, they're selling cars. What do they need wristbands for? They're not at a concert or at a gym. I'm actually a bit upset. And a tad jealous. I vented for about half an hour because I feel like I am entitled to, damn it. I'm sure no one wanted to hear it, but I felt like bitching like a two year old, because I forgot that Nicky had violently attacked me and I chewed on my upper lip, which made it hurt. And I have a headache, which I have had since yesterday morning.

Eh. It's nice to be appreciated.

Sunday, August 9, 2009

Summer Breezes

I'm melting. No, not really. I'm in a nice, air-conditioned office at the moment, but I will most certainly be melting later this evening. My dad, crazy old man that he is, doesn't believe in AC. He thinks it saps electricity. That may be true enough, but it's our first 90 degree day ALL summer, and the humidity and heat index and whatever is making it feel as if it were 99 outside.

Supercalifragilistic. My hair is preparing the rebellion now. Vive la revolution.

I can't stand it when the mercury climbs above 85 degrees. I get all sluggish and throw myself all dramatic across our couch, complaining that it is way too hot and I can't wait until winter. I think most Clevelanders do this, although the average Clevelander loathes our winters. A Cleveland winter is chock full of snow, wind, subzero-ish temperatures, snow, puffy coats that don't exactly cover your ass (I, however, own a L.L. Bean parka that covers my ass quite adequately--being warm doesn't mean being all cutesy and shit...you have to get a bit shapeless amd frumpy in order to stay nice and toasty), and snow. Talk to me from mid-November to late March, and I'm either threatening anarchy or moving to Hawaii, or both.

This type of weather calls for sand, surf, flip-flops, and a nice, big strawberry banana margarita. No salt, extra liquor. Yum.

But the beaches in Cleveland are questionable, I can't swim, and I'm broke til payday. So...I guess I can just put some flip-flops on and call it a day. Good enough.


So here's our muggy, 90 degree Sunday playlist. Enjoy.

"Summerboy", Lady Gaga, (The Fame)

"Call n' Return", Hellogoodbye, (Hellogoodbye--EP)

"I Like You So Much Better When You're Naked", Ida Maria, (Fortress 'round My Heart)

"I'm Ready", Jack's Mannequin, (Everything In Transit)

"Blame It (Feat. T-Pain)", Jamie Foxx, (Intuition)

"Gasolina", Daddy Yankee, (Barrio Fino)

"Sunday Best", Augustana, (All The Stars And Boulevards)

"Good Girls Go Bad (Feat. Leighton Meester)", Cobra Starship, (Hot Mess)

"It's Amazing", Jem, (Down to Earth)

"My Love (Feat. T.I.)", Justin Timberlake, (FutureSex/LoveSounds)

"What You Know", T.I., (King)

"I'm In Miami Bitch", LMAFO, (Party Rock)

"Make Her Say (Feat. Kanye West, Common, and Lady Gaga)", Kid Cudi, (Make Her Say--Single)

And, as a shoutout to my girl Tricia, "Whoomp! (There It Is)", Tag Team, (Whoomp! There It Is--Single)


Friday, August 7, 2009

My Own Two Hands

I'm listening to the radio. I'm pretty bored.

I wish I was wastin' away in Margaritaville.

Jimmy Buffet is a lucky bastard.

No, instead of wastin' away in my flip-flops and sitting in a chair on the beach, I am here at work with this annoying pain between my shoulder blades because I don't sit right. I've been here since this morning (8 am-ish, to be precise), and the sky was all blue and pretty, but now it's getting all cloudy. Bleeeecccch. I'm supposed to go to a fair with Nicky, so I'm really hoping the rain holds off til tonight.


Eh. I've decided to share some crazy eco-facts I read in a nifty little book I bought (The Green Book by Elizabeth Rogers and Thomas Kostigen) at the zoo on Wednesday. It inspired me to start washing my hair with Burt's Bees shampoo and conditioner and to try to shave at least a minute off my shower time every week.

Here's a few:
*On average, you create 4.5 pounds of trash every day. Over the course of your life, that will total 600 times your average adult weight. In the end, we will each leave a 90,000 pound legacy of trash for our grandchildren. (Kinda makes me think of the trash cities in Wall-E)

*Americans use at least twice as much water and energy per person as anyone else in the world.

*If all American households reduced their food waste by 25 grams per day, the savings would be enough to provide three meals per day for a whole year to each of the 1.35 million children who are homeless.

*Each American consumes an average of 2,200 standard two-ply napkins per year, or about a little over six of these napkins per day. If everyone in the United States used an average of one napkin less per day, more than a billion pounds of napkins would be saved from landfills per year. A stack of napkins this size could fill the entire Empire State Building.

*About three billion new books are sold per year, requiring 400,000 trees to be chopped down.


I was kind of surprised by some of the things I read (according to a "green" article by Jennifer Aniston, every two minutes in the shower uses as much water as a person in Africa uses for everything in their life for a whole day--drinking, bathing, cooking, and cleaning), and it made me think of all the wasteful habits I'm guilty of. I always forget to turn the light off when I leave the room, I hold the refrigerator door open longer than necessary, I take half-hour showers...It all adds up.

It's like that Jack Johnson song..."I can change the world, with my own two hands...Make it a better place, with my own two hands." It takes just one person to start making small changes to inspire others to make a huge difference.

Thursday, August 6, 2009

Eh, Eh (Nothing Else I Can Say)

Ah...It's Thursday. So, in the light of it being Chuck Norris Thursday, let's begin with a badassed Chuckism:

"Chuck Norris is the reason why Waldo is hiding."


Okay, kids! I promised a good entry, and I will try not to disappoint.

I was off work yesterday (took a much-needed vacation day), which soothed the angry beast known as Lashawn. I had a relaxing day at the zoo with Nicky and my mom. The weather was perfect, sunny and pleasant, not too hot or humid. All in all it was a good day, even with the crazy sunburn I got (I was wearing a racerback tank top and a Band-Aid on my upper arm...These are some pretty kickass tan lines, seriously)...I'm hoping I'll gain a bit of a golden glow, but my odds are slim. I think it'll just fade away in a few days, and I'll be left with my usual pasty tone.

Oh, but such is the life of Lashawn.

Hmm...Right now I'm hungry and a bit irritated, due to my sunburn. A guy with a greased out, curly mullet just paid his bill for Service, and I have to say I've never really understood The Mullet. Was it ever really cool, or were people just too tripped out on acid in the '70s to do their hair? I'm thinking it was the latter. I get the fact that it's business in the front, and party in the back, but seriously...Bad idea. Really. And why does Billy Ray Cyrus want his back? I'm not too clear on his reasoning.

If anyone knows why mullets have stuck around, or why some people seem to sadly think they are both cool and fashionable, please let me know!

It's still a bit busy here at the old dealership, so I'll have to cut today's entry short. I promise to fulfill my blogging duties tomorrow. I swear.

And I'm still contemplating becoming a career alcoholic. (And to answer Juan Pablo's question, it's a bit of both, though I'm leaning more towards alcoholism induced by my career...)

Enjoy your Thursday, and more tomorrow!

XO

Tuesday, August 4, 2009

No Time, No Time

Ahhh! Cash For Clunkers hell, part two. No time to write today, but I promise I'll give you guys a lovely one when I do!

Yankee Girl, thank you sooo much for the award! You're gonna have to help me with putting the links in the blog and having the name of the blog show up rather than the link! XOXO

Monday, August 3, 2009

Sympathique

Sorry, not any time to write today...I have three words for you: Cash For Clunkers.

Oh my Lord, I am so stressed out! I took in over 169 sales calls over the weekend, and it's just sooo aggravating as a whole. Hopefully once all the kinks get worked out it'll be a bit easier, but for now...I'm thinking about becoming a career alcoholic.

Til tomorrow, lots of love and XOXO.

Sunday, August 2, 2009

Barefoot and Crazy

Here's this Sunday's playlist. Give it a whirl! (Happy Sunday, and more tomorrow.)


"Red Light", David Nail, (Red Light--Single)

"Break the Ice", Britney Spears, (Blackout)

"Clumsy", Fergie, (The Dutchess)

"Criminal", Fiona Apple, (Tidal)

"You Found Me", The Fray, (The Fray)

"Banana Pancakes", Jack Johnson, (In Between Dreams)

"Hide and Seek", Imogen Heap, (Speak for Yourself)

"Somersault", Decoder Ring, (Somersault)

"The Way I Am", Ingrid Michaelson, (Girls and Boys)

"Summer Love", Justin Timberlake, (FutureSex/LoveSounds)

"Angel", Kate Voegele, (Angel--Single)

"Laughing With", Regina Specktor, (Far)

"Hang On Little Tomato", Pink Martini, (Hang On Little Tomato)

"Black Sand", Jenny Lewis, (Acid Tongue)

"Mansard Roof", Vampire Weekend, (Vampire Weekend)

"Blue Suitcase", Erin McCarley, (Love, Save the Empty)

"Stormy Weather", Etta James, (At Last! Remastered)

Saturday, August 1, 2009

See Fernando

What an amazing morning this is turning out to be.

To start things off, I have a pimple in my foreheadular region (we'll call him Fernando). Fernando started scoping out the neighborhood Wednesday and moved in some time during that night. I've tried everything to evict him from the epidermal premises, but he refuses to leave--I guess he's decided to squat for the time being.

Fabulous.

Then, after trying to corral Fernando into some semblance of submission (say that three times fast), I tore down my street to catch Cleveland's shit-tastic public transportation. I'm near the end of my street when I hear a crazy screeching sound. I look up in confused alarm, and see the sandy body of a squirrel scurrying in a drunken sort of way over the branch of the tree above me. I sort of freaked out, seeing as I'm a bit afraid of squirrels, and quickly crept away.

After the near-attack from the cracked out squirrel, I made it uneventfully to the bus stop. I sat down and was about to listen to my iPod when I noted that something didn't smell quite right. I look all around me for the source of the funktacular smell, and when I peer under the bench (which I'm still sitting on), I see a huge pile of shit on the sidewalk. I jump up, very grossed out and a bit nauseated, and go out to the safety of the tree by the bus stop. I was mildly outraged and incredulous, because who craps on the sidewalk? Who does that? When did it become socially acceptable to crap in public?

Only in Cleveland, I swear.

And then the shenanigans continue to ensue on this warm and sunny Saturday.

My bus is running five minutes late, which is not cool because if I miss the connecting bus I'll have to walk to work from there. It's only a fifteen minute walk, but that's beside the point when the first bus is late and rolls up to my shit-tastic stop at 7:40 am and I have to be at work by 8. A bit of Jesus comes through for me though, hallelujah, and the connecting bus is late too, and I can run across this grassy field thing at the bus station to catch it.

I arrive at good old Ford, hoping that things will calm down from here. Oh, but no. Of course not. Fernando decides that he wants to see what's going on at the dealership, so I have to duck into the bathroom and layer on the concealer.

As of now, things have begun to quiet down, with the exception of the phones. I can deal with that, so here's to hoping for a sane end to this workday!