Hey, Soul Sister

Hey my lovelies! Yesterday (Tuesday--yes, I know it's after 1 am, but in my bubble of Lashawn it is still technically Wednesday until I fall asleep and wake up at a later unspecified point in the morning. It's not Thursday in my mind.) was Nicky's birthday! He had a great time and is enjoying his presents--unbelievably, the rocketship never came up. He was more interested in his Thomas the Tank Engine trains. We watched his Max and Ruby DVDs, and I was informed by Encyclopedia Nick that Max and Ruby's parents were eaten by a dragon. My son is hilarious.

I should be writing my rough draft for my Honors English class on visual rhetoric, but I'm stuck, and one can only rant so much about Sarah Palin until the words mean nothing. It's due tomorrow night, and I have one long paragraph. I can work on it in the morning. Procrastination is a seductive wench, it really is. I gave up procrasinating for Lent, wish me luck.

In other news, I am singing at the "Solon Idol" in some little bar/club thing called the Blue Fig, in Solon, which is some itty bitty city out in the boondocks. I know of Solon only because you had to cut through there to get to Geauga Lake (an amusement park), which was in Aurora. I'm a big city girl--I mix up everything that isn't in Cleveland or immediately outside of it. I haven't sang on a stage in six years, and I get stage fright. I'm an awesome singer, but I'm nervous. Wish me luck!

Here is my Wednesday Late Night Playlist. Enjoy!

"I Still Ain't Over You", Augustana, (Can't Love, Can't Hurt)

"Sleep", Azure Ray, (Azure Ray)

"Taylor", Jack Johnson, (On & On)

"Speechless", Lady Gaga, (The Fame Monster)

"Uprising", Muse, (The Resistance)

"More Than This", Missy Higgins, (Steer & More-EP)

"Dying Day", Brandi Carlile, (Give Up the Ghost)

"I'm On Fire", John Mayer, (Battle Studies)

"Lifeboats", Snow Patrol, (A Hundred Million Suns)

"Know Your Onion!", The Shins, (Oh, Inverted World)

"Human of the Year", Regina Spektor, (Far)

"Gravity Rides Everything", Lenka, (Gravity Rides Everything-Single)

Where I Stood

Ugh. My jaw looks as though someone just decided to haul off and punch me. I had a really bad experience with Percoset yesterday, resulting in severe nausea and dizziness. I had my mouth assaulted by an oral surgeon, resulting in one less wisdom tooth cramping my jaw's style.

Hurray.

In other news, my job blocked blogging sites, so I'll have to save funny work shit for when I get home. On the positive side, I'll be doing a lot more blogging in my pajamas. Rowrrr. It'll be The Nighttime Confessions of a Crazed and Oppressed Receptionist. Or the mid-morning. You get the idea. It'll be scandalous, racy, a tad sexy, and as always, absolutely insane. I promise it'll be better than Sarah Palin's memoir. And all my -ing words will end with a "g".

Hmm...As some of you know, I have an irrational fear of squirrels. Why, I'm not entirely sure, though I think it has something to do with my dad telling me that if I got bitten by one I'd have to get ten shots in my stomach or I'd die of rabies. That could explain me avoiding them like The Plague. Well, usually I just go about my day and stomp my foot if a rogue squirrel is doing his/her squirrel thing in my general vicinity. Now...I will cross the street if they don't run away. The other day I actually felt a twinge of panic when I walked past one eating an acorn on my street. Panic. Like actual fear. I'd recommend therapy, but I'm sure the psychiatrist would either laugh at me or tell me my fear of the squirrel is a metaphor for how I hate my mother.

But I love my mom. I just have a weird, completely illogical phobia of squirrels. Thank God it's nearly winter and those nefarious critters will be off in their trees, jacking off or sleeping or watching NHL or whatever the hell it is that squirrels do in their spare time.

Any suggestions on how to get over this insanity are welcome.

This Is Somewhere

I'm starting to think that this may quite possibly be the worst summer ever.

Well, maybe not EVER, but definitely for this year. Let me illustrate to you via word-agry (You like that? It's like imagery, only instead of pictures, you use words. I know, I know--I'm a F-ing genius...watch out Webster, you're not the only one with an endless supply of seemingly made up words.)...Okay, it's July 11, and it has reached 80 degrees like only six or seven times. That I'm not complaining about. I don't particularly enjoy sub-Saharan temperatures, thank you. No, my problem is the rain. I feel like freaking Noah, except without the ark (and don't get any ideas up there, Big Guy. I'm not handy, I'm not D.I.Y., and I prefer my wild animals to be behind safety enclosures...)...it's ridiculous. Beyond ridiculous.

I barely have the slightest hint of a golden glow--for me, that isn't too unusual. I'm pretty much pasty pale year-round, which is another post altogether, but by July I have a bit of a tan going on. This year? Nothing.

But I digress. It's stopped raining for now, and the sun is attempting to make a fashionably late appearance.

* * *

It's 1:39 pm and I have a double cheeseburger from McDonald's, which can only mean two things: 1.)I'm hungry, and 2.)It's bitchin' time. I'd like to call this Mid-Day Musings Over A Double Cheeseburger. Come, sit.

Okay. I don't like pickles and onions and mustard on my double cheeseburgers. I think those things are pretty gross as individuals (think Sarah Palin or Rush Limbaugh), but put them together and they are disgusting as a whole (the entire GOP). I just get ketchup (or catsup, if you're one of those weird people who spells ketchup as catsup), and if I'm in the mood or not on a diet (which I currently am, which I am sort of breaking at the moment), mayonnaise. Pretty uncomplicated. I'd like to think I'm an uncomplicated person.

Pretty easy, right? How hard could that be to screw up? Ketchup, and quite possibly mayo. It isn't rocket science. You don't need to go to MIT or write a treatise on the toppings of a burger. No. It's simplicity at its best, right? Wrong. Wrongwrongwrongwrong. Those idiots put everything on my double cheeseburger. I didn't buy it; I'm at work and one of my car salesman amigos purchased it for me because I'm just so damn awesome. Perhaps he forgot to mention the only ketchup, perhaps they just screwed up. Anything is possible. However, instead of letting it ruin my already exhausting, waterlogged trainwreck of a day, I just took the top (in the burger business they call that the crown) off my dysfunctional cheeseburger and scraped it (including most of the cheese) all off. I ate it sans crown, because I'm pretty adaptable and mostly hungry and desperate.

I'm partially sated for now, which brings me to my next musing. I have to make a grand entrance at my best friend's son's 4th birthday party tonight. I'm pretty tired, and I'd love to take a nap, but alas, I am a good friend and am attending, albeit reluctantly, with my son Nicky in tow. It'll be a zoo, but I get off at 6, and the party starts at 3, which means by the time I get ready it'll be close to 7. Most of the toddling offenders should be gone by then. Let's all cross our fingers for Lashawn, okay?

I'd really appreciate it.