GIRLS ONLY BLOG

YUCK. Will getting my "yearly" ever get easier?
I don't like doctors in general, but the "female parts doctor" has got to be the worst, and scariest.
Cold tools, the mask, the sheet, and stirrups...I feel like I could cry just thinking about it.
I can't imagine ever being preggers. For one, the creepy little alien inside your tiny uterus (ewwww), and all the doctor appointments, then getting it OUT!? No way. I want my shit tied up. Don't get me wrong, kids are the shit, and maybe when I'm 40, I'll adopt like 20 of them. I'll take them all. The ones with no legs, the ones that can't see, you name it. But I do not want to grow my own.
I guess I'd rather take the babies that need someone very badly than make more. And I'm scared of looking like a pear.

but yeah, my appointment isn't for a few days, and I'm already getting a tummyache about it.

gynecology is my nightmare.

94 minutes

My little sister sure knows how to break my heart.

She has every quality you could ever want in a woman. Let's make a list.

- she is wicked smart
- she READS ( I'm not talking girly magazines, she reads to learn cool shit)
- she's got a cool job
- she's got a rapist wit
- she loves sea creatures, monsters, reptiles, snakes...All the yucky awesome stuff
- she's a mad punk rocker metal lady
- she's an artist
- she's beautiful
- she knows enough to hate "vests"
- she can hold a conversation and isn't a cross-eyed-idiot-yes-girl
- she loves her mommy


I could write a book about how radical this girl is. A book SHOULD be written about her.
and yet, she doesn't see the magical powers she holds. It's sad.
I told her just tonight that she needs to look in the mirror and realize who she is. She's better than 99% of the 18 year old girls on this planet, and she's MY sister. If I were anymore proud, my head would burst in flames.

come on sis, fight the white male oppression with me! We don't need dudes to tell us that we are the shining stars of the punk rock and roll future! fuck them!
WE ARE GIRLS. WE ARE PEOPLE. WE WON'T TAKE YOUR SHIT. (nope, not even your stupid drunk boyfriend!)

Now go break something. I love you, mandy.

ring ring ring ring ring ring ring bananaphone

Apparently I am committing the biggest crime of the century just short of drowning babies because I do not like to answer my telephone. Send in the Riot Squad! Maria screens her calls!
I don't know how it happens, but it seems that there are some chatty kathys out there who like to give out my digits, therefore I get creeps, pervs, and annoying insects calling all time that I would rather not speak to. I went out and bought a great thrift store answering machine for the entire purpose of NOT answering. I don't have to.
I prefer email anyway.
What really gets me is when people call, and DON'T leave a message. Then how the fuck am I supposed to know who to call back? Tell me. HOW? Yeah, I fucking can't.
So if I don't answer, and you don't leave a message, do me a favor, and stop calling. You obviously don't need to hear my voice that badly.
And stop bitching that I'm sooooo hard to get ahold of.
it's not like I'm the Trump, I AM around, and you can find me.

do us both a favor and LEAVE A MESSAGE AFTER THE MUTHERFUCKING BEEP.

eyeveez

Good News: I am out of the hospital
Bad News: I have to wear a splint/sling

Good News: I got to keep my hand
Bad News: I have scars and bruises

Good News: I hold no resentment towards cats
Bad News: I do not have a new pet

Good News: I am now blonde
Bad News: I cannot show it off

Good News: Trading Spouses in on tonight
Bad News: I'm gonna watch it

Good News: I got quarters to do laundry
Bad News: It's gonna hurt

Good News: Blog update
Bad News: It hurts to type so now i will stop

I bet the president hates punk rock, too.

I just got another visit from the Music Hating Fairy. I answered the door to find him in his beige shorty robe. ughh... Just as I was really starting to feel serene tonight, that fucker busts in and ruins my entire night. Now I can't focus. And I had a really busy night planned of beer drinking, Curb Your Enthusiasm watching, smoking, and jammie wearing. Thanks a lot, fucker. Now all I see is a slimey, freshly waxed chest in my brain. godamnitt anyways.
Might as well go to bed and get ready for the night terrors.

by the by...Remember not to make any purchases today as it's the monkey's inauguration. If he's going to go about his "business as usual," we're not.

SMASH THE RICH.

feline fury.

I woke up at 4pm. took a shower, put on make-up, got out the salsa, and watched American Idol. yeah, i'll admit it.
Now i'm super stalling on message boards to not have to clean this dump for the new kitty to move in. His name is Junior, and was a stray. A lovely man, blablather, took this kitten in, took care of him, took him to the vet, and found him a home. My home. He did all this, and he's even allergic. Who wins the good samaritan award? blablather. What a gentleman and a scholar. Nicest thing I've heard about this year. Now we just have to find out if my original cat, Corey Feldman can handle this. I really hope she doesn't drag Junior under the bed and eats his face off. Cuz i'd really like another cat around the house. One that won't bite my hands and hiss at me everytime i look at it, and try to eat my toes while i sleep.
cats and cats and cats.
i wish i had a dog.

I need a friend that will come when i call it, lick my face silly, stay put when i ask, go on walks, cuddle up, and bite the Music Hater.

Satan?

A tribute to my favorite blog.

My Weekend.

well, hey guys. saturday i woke up around 2pm, and stayed in my pajamas for a few more hours haha playing on the computer and chainsmoking haha. i finally took a shower and put on some red lipstick and made some phonecalls. beth is never home anymore :( and if she is she's sleeping too haha. so i went to the video store and rented the last disc of the second season of 6 feet under, and wouldn't you know it skipped at like, the last 5 minutes. crrryyyyyyy! haha. but i had a backup video called ghosts of edendal or something it was like, a total low budget indie horror thingy, that didn't make any sense and just pissed me off. haha. :) so i had 3 beers ((that's it! horray for meeee haha!)) and went to bed at like 5am. i woke up two hours later and a wicked panic attack which is sooooo weird cuz i haven't had one in my sleep for like, years i guesss haha :( but i fell back asleep and woke today at 2pm again. i'm still in my jammies with bedhead hahahahahahahahhah and on the computer ((duh! hah)) and might get take a shower in 15 minutes. well, looks like i'm done. love you lots. call me.! -maria



wow. that was disgusting. the fucked up thing is, that was so much easier to write because i compeletly turned my brain OFF. sad. in fact, that wasn't even really my weekend. a little bit. but i'm sure the rest was probably too smart to be put in my tribute blog.
my fingers hurt.

Shit Mouse

I could use this space to talk about how cold, bored, and cranky I am but...oh. I guess I just did.

I'm just going to type for typing's sake, because I really don't have anything better to do. I'm dubbing tapes for my Music Club, and drinking a teeny tiny coke, and trying to resist my pack of Camels in the other room.

These are the girls who I wish I could sing like
Janis Joplin
Grace Slick
Liz Phair
Cyndi Lauper
The ladies from Heart
Wouldn't that be awesome? Yeah, but I also wish I could play drums like Keith Moon...So far I still sound like that pots and pans band I was in with all My Little Ponies...But in my head, that's wicked cool.

My cat destroys everything I own. And to think that I was about to buy some pet mice today. Idiot. I still might. I could keep them in the bathroom...But Music Hating Chest Hair might get them. Shit, this is tragic. I'm trying to fulfill my friendship needs by purchasing small rodents.
I will name them after Spanish swears.

Beer chub is no longer cute.

This evening, I stretched for 6 minutes, and did 10 sit-ups. Tomorrow I'm doing a water and cereal diet. But ONLY tomorrow. I like to take things slow.

I'm not going to let myself expand just because it's winter and I have a house full of *Grandma's Tooth Rotting Mistakes.

Nope, 2005 is the year of the skinny winner/wiener.





*A few years ago, my grandmother attempted to make chocolate covered cherries, and totally forgot to put in the cherries, so they were chocolate balls filled with a sugary white mess (ew...), and they made my texas teeth hurt real bad. Now I force her to make them, cuz they are the best tasting dental nightmares EVER!

1st Class?

I hate the phrase long distance relationship. why does it have to have such a stupid title?

More importantly, how do you keep a friend that lives a million miles away? You don't go to the same places anymore, hang out with the same people, or even know what streets either of you are talking about.
Times zones are all over the place, and you never know when someone's bedtime is, unless you can see if their lights are on or off.

it's actually really sad. Otherwise why would there be huge long drawn-out goodbyes? It's because it is like losing someone, even it is just a little bit. It sucks.
So, we load up on stamps, revise our long-distance plans, and save up for plane tickets. Or do we? It's not part of the routine, so I forget to do those things. It's not intentional, it's just different.
But if you don't want that special buddy gone forever, I guess you get your shit together, and do something about it.

Fuck. I have to go to Office Max. Am I a bad person? nah... I'm just a regular old human.

The Pains In My Head That Make It Hard To Live

Can someone be a therapist if they're fucked up, too?

Yeah, I have some mentals, so I've had the opportunity to meet other "crazys". I mean that in the most loving way, cuz these nutjobs are my best friends. I call them when I feel like I'm going to start screaming, or feel like I can't breathe, and they're awesomesttothemax. I just hope I can do the same for them

A good good friend called me tonight with severe panics, and I did everything I could to talk him down and calm him out...I just want to do a good job.

I guess it's all about just being there, right?

Casualties

Remember how I said I cut all my hair off? Yeah, well it's a big problem now.
I hate it. I totally hate hate hate it.
Maybe it's because I didn't see it dry until I got home or some ridiculous shit, but I look like the nerdy girl from Singles. You know the look. Early 90's Seattle. Oh god.
So I'm going back into the shop tomorrow to do something about it. But now that it's so short, there's not much I can do. I guess I'm going back to the good ol' hawk.
When I was younger everybody told me that I would grow out of this phase.
Well, here I am, a phlebotomist, a GROWN-UP getting yet, another Mohawk. Is that a phase? No way. You can take the girl outta punk but you can't take the punk outta girl.

Fuck it. It's just hair. Stupid hair. It'll grow back. Or not. You can never tell anymore.
To really do it right and big time, I'll dye it some wicked awesome color, too. Just for the full effect.

my mom is gonna shit. And it's gonna be RADICAL. 9th grade all over again.

Street cred just got bumped up 100 points.

This thing will be in pieces by sun up.

This motherfucking two timing bitch that calls itself a computer is going out the goddamn window. This time I mean it.
I just wrote a really top notch blog just to have this stupid thing freeze up mid spell check.

I'm too mad to write it all again, so you get the short, pissed version.


I cut off all my hair today. I think I look fat. I am a fierce, powerful woman that should know better than to feel that way blah blah blah....
Nobody's gonna tell me to shave, or do sit ups, or grow my hair out and "take that shit outta my face." I could be in L7 for god's sake.

blah. blah. blah.

Messin' up again..

Yay to the EDIT button! Boo to 10 Red Stripes!

Offended At Dawn

A nightmare has burned into my brain forever, and I fear I will never sleep peacefully again.

6am, I wake up to use the facilities, my bathroom is detatched, so I actually have to walk out of my apartment to get there. I'm super sleepy and cranky, so I just kind of take my time in there playing madlibs as I deal with nature.
When I walk out, guess who's standing in laundry room? The one and only Music Hating Chest Hair. fuck. The last person I wanna see when I'm in my jammies. But wait: HE'S IN JAMMIES, TOO. And not just any old jammies, he's in a shorty robe. A beige shorty robe. The ultimate paradox. On one hand, beige is the most uninteresting, unornamented, sad color ever. On the other hand, a shorty robe is the most man-sleazy, perverse, Hefner thing a dude could own. Just as I was about to vomit from this sight alone, I rub my eyes and look closer and see him folding MY laundry that I left in the dryer the day before as he whispers "Good morning".
First of all, he's handling my goods. YUCK. When someone leaved their shit in the machines, I just take it out, and set to the side. I don't do anyone a "favor" by fondling and folding it. That's not neighborly. That's creepy. Second, he whispered "Good morning", as if not to wake the baby or some shit.

So here's the militant music hater standing in his ball exposing robe, folding my stuff, and whispering at the crack of dawn. Was it all just a bad dream?
Nope. When I went back out later, my clothes were in a neatly folded stack that I had to wash again because I puked my goddamn guts all over them.

25 to life.

I have a pretty good feeling about twothousandandfive. I can't say why. I mean, not I can't say why because it's a secret, but I can't say why because I don't know.
I'm not an optimistic girl. I never have been. I can fake it, but I'm lying. Half empty, half full..fuck that, my glass is broken and I'm all cut up and slipping around on the fallen liquid and my own blood.

But this year is different. I am not going to make any resolutions. Resolutions make you feel guilty and like a loser when you don't follow through with them, so I'm going to give myself a few suggestions. They're not set in stone, and I won't be a failure if I don't succeed in them. I'm almost 25, in dog years, that's like a million, so I don't need to be so hard on myself anymore...Yeah. That's the ticket.

my SUGGESTIONS for 2005 MYSELF....

wake up earlier
don't smoke so much
weed out the icky people in my life
travel
no more hard liquor
move away
exercise more
I will not dye hair my black (I'm gonna need BIG support for this one)
no television between 8am-11pm mon-fri

can I do these things? Who knows, I'm gonna try..But if I slip up...No big deal.
I'm just a kid. I'm getting old. I'm pretty young. My youth is passing me by.
I've got plenty of time. time is running out. I have my whole life ahead of me. The end is near.