Jammy Jam

I went to the 95.5 Singles Mingle this past Friday. Sarah's friend Jacque had won 8 tickets and Sarah invited me since I'm single. It was at the Holiday Inn at Southgate and we had a hotel room there. I almost backed out when she told me it was a pajama party but I decided to grin and bear it. I wore long baggy pants, a long sleeved shirt and fuzzy slippers for my pajamas. I was worried that there were going to be lots of skanky hos dressed in skanky lingerie but there weren't too many. The girls told me that Neo would be there and I was all, "Neo? Why don't they just say that Keanu Reeves will be there?" They had psychics that you could see but you had to wait in line. I didn't want to see the psychics, well more like I didn't care enough to wait in line, but I somehow always seemed to be in line waiting with someone else. Sarah got really drunk and passed out before 11pm. After the party I went to Derek and Bob's room and made out with Bob. I eventually got really tired and just wanted to sleep but all Bob wanted to do was make out. At 5am I finally told him that I was going back to my room so I could go to sleep but I didn't have a key so I had to knock on the door for about 10 minutes before someone finally dragged their ass out of bed and let me in. The next morning we went to Bob Evans for breakfast. I've never liked Bob Evans and I still don't. I was displeased with my meal and annoyed that I had to spend $11 on that plebeian crap. And there was a Denny's right next door! Who the fuck chooses Bob Evans over Denny's? It's like I was with my grandma.

Bride Not to Be

I got a reminder from my Yahoo Calendar today reminding me that my wedding is tomorrow, March 17, 2007. Back in 2003 or 2004 I decided that I wanted my wedding to be on St Patty's Day cause I thought that would be an awesomely fun wedding day and anniversary to have. So I figured out when the next St Patty's Day would be falling on a Saturday and I put it on my calendar and I told my friends to save the date. And it seems the day is upon us. Except that I don't have a hall rented, or a wedding dress or a cake or even a groom. And the biggest thing missing is the desire to even get married. A few years ago it seemed like that's what you were supposed to feel and do when you reached 30. You were supposed to be either on the way to getting married or want to be on the way. But I don't want to get married. Maybe someday but right now its' the last thing that I want. It seems that my feelings of not wanting to get married are abnormal. One of my mom's good friends (who happens to be my friends mom) is always lamenting to my mother that me and this friend are going to be alone for the rest of our lives and grow to be spinsters and never get married. And when I hear this the thought doesn't really bother me. It actually sounds enticing. I wouldn't have to answer to anyone or share the bed or wash their stinky laundry or make room for their stuff. I'm not an easy person to live with and I don't like people messing with my way of doing stuff and organizing things. So living alone seems like a fabulous idea. And it's not like I'd be hermit. I would work at a school where I'd see students and colleagues and then I'd hang out with friends on evenings and weekends and then when they annoyed me I could go to my home and be alone. Well, I'd have my several cats of course but I like living with cats. Am I abnormal for getting excited about the prospect of being alone?

Deep Thoughts

I think I need one of those little recording devices like John Cusack had in "Say Anything". Then I could record my thoughts just by speaking them into the machine and write them in my blog at a later time. I always have great thoughts when I'm driving and I think to myself, "I'll have to post that in my blog later." But then later comes and I've forgotten the great thought. So you're thinking it must not have been that great if I can't remember, right? Well, that's where you'd be wrong Mr. Error McWrongsterpants. It just makes the thought that much more great cause it has to be hidden away and can't be floating around in the air for the wrong person to snatch away. See? And then it presents itself to those who are deemed worthy. Check and mate. I think that's what you're supposed to say when you've won but I'm not really sure cause I don't play chess. It's too time consuming and it gives people wrinkles from all that contemplation and pondering.

I'm Looking for Attention

There's a difference between being funny and just being an ass. And if you can't tell the difference then you obviously haven't reached the higher plane of existence known to most as "possessing intelligence".

Working the Glutes

As I mentioned in a previous post my mother bought me a membership to Bally's in January. I got a free training session with a personal trainer and then I bought a few more cause I couldn't say no. I did not, though, buy the recommended 16 sessions at a cost of $973. Ha! As if. It didn't seem to sink in when I said 3 times that I was a substitute teacher. My trainer's name is Ted. I like to call him Trainer Ted or sometimes Tred for short. He's not at all the type of person that I usually picture being a trainer but the training sessions have been going well. He has a quiet voice and is really soft-spoken but he doesn't let me cajole him into not doing stuff I don't like. I'll be all (in my whiny voice), "Oh god, not the rope, Ted. Teddddd, I hate the rope. I don't want to do the rope." And he'll just smile and say in his really soft voice, "Okay, so we'll do 3 sets of 15, okay?" And he's so nice about it that I just slump my shoulders and go do the rope. Tred really puts me through the wringer during our weekly sessions. My legs always feel all wobbly and like they're made of jello when I'm done and I worry that they'll give out on me as I'm walking out of the gym so I just keep repeating to myself, "If you can make it out the door and to the car, then you can collapse at home and nobody will know that you have jello legs and they won't laugh at you."