Going for Yet Another Comment-less Post

I learned this weekend that if you mix boys with anything remotely drum-like you get a cacophany of sound unrivaled by the loudest of jet engines.

I love boys.

I just wrote a big paragraph bemoaning my inability of picking out winners for boyfriends. But it was really selfish and all too "woe is me." Instead, I'll say that I'm glad I finally figured out that most of the guys I've dated were losers and I'm hoping to make a turnaround in my interests. For real. From now on, only Johnnys and Orlandos and Brads. Except real. And actually nice. And single.

Anyway, let's just face it. I do love boys. And I will continue loving them. Even though the last one burned me so bad I was considering batting for the other team. (Kidding, kidding.......sort of.)

Oh dear, I'm sensing a return of the flirt whore!

Run Away

I am currently sitting next to 4 boys playing "football" on the Xbox a.k.a. THE WORST INVENTION EVER RIGHT UP THERE WITH THE FREAKING PS2. I'm drowning in testorone. Somebody help me!

Edit: Ok, I really don't mind after all, b/c BGF is actually SMILING. And acting like he's having fun. And it's so cute. I like it when things go well for him. He's had THE WORST WEEK EVER. :echo echo echo: So it is good for him to be happy.

But still....

Dude. I really DO need GIRL friends.

Behemoth

Tremble in fear! She will come and break your kennel! Hide the stuffed animals and any available rawhide.

The Parsnip cometh!

Somedays, I'd like to just stay at home all day with her and watch her destroy my apartment. I miss so much being gone all day. And it's the little things, you know? Like when she poops under the dining table because she knows it's hard to get to. Or when she picks a new "special" spot on the carpet to make completely bald. Or when she sees my super cute new dress shoes and takes one up the stairs (to chew on) and leaves the other one downstairs (again, to chew on), so she can have entertainment in both places! She's just so smart and happy and pleased to be Parsnip the puppy.

And you know what I hate about her? I CAN'T STAY MAD AT HER. Not even a little bit. Because when she curls up next to me at night and lays her head on my arm and looks at me sooooo pathetically and lovingly all at the same, the way only a sweet little dog can do...well, I wouldn't trade her for the world.

Pretty Picture

I am playing the CRAP out of Kelly Clarkson's "Breakaway" CD. Seriously. Why am I so in love with it? And why can't I stop singing the songs at work? Because why would anyone in their right mind want to hear me attempt American Idol-type vocals?

Why, ME, of course!

Working Out Sucks, Dude

Ok, I just worked out. Yeah. I put on a sports bra and everything. Two years ago, this would be normal behavior. But not anymore! Ever since the collapse of my supposed wonderful relationship with "the idiot," I pretty much just let myself do whatever I wanted. Eat, drink and be merry for tomorrow you get dumped!

And at the risk of sounding like Britney Spears.....y'all, I am so out of shape. I ran/walked/struggled/crawled/heaved/and nearly died through two miles on that wretched treadmill tonight. It took me over 30 minutes to go 2 miles since I kept accidentally hitting the pause button and then kept wimping out when the shooting pain in my side got too bad. Also, I like breathing. And I can't breathe when I run. AT ALL. I don't care how much I concentrate on breathing in and breathing out and taking deep breaths and using my nose and lungs. I CAN'T DO IT. And really, the harder I ran, the worse I felt because of the jiggly jiggly wubbly bubbly of my fatty fat fat. OH MY GOSH. I kid you not, my mind kept saying (cause God knows my mouth couldn't say it), "The jiggling! The fat! MY LOVE HANDLES ARE THE HUGEST LOVE HANDLES IN THE ENTIRE WORLD! How could I let myself become the pillsbury doughboy!?"

Give Me Aspartame or Give Me Death

I just don't like it. I'm sorry. I don't. But try it for yourself. But it doesn't take like Diet Coke. Or regular Coke. I just takes like....ew.



Crap. And now I can't think of anything else to post about. Seriously. What is WRONG with me? Oh well, I'm posting this anyway RIGHT NOW in the hopes that the suckiness of this post will inspire me to write more later.

Oy.

1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8-9

Nine days! Has it really been 9 entire days since I last posted? That's crazy. I guess I shouldn't be so surprised because I have learned a new definition of hell this week. And you know what that hell is? COMING BACK TO WORK AFTER VACATION. Oh my god. It really is the worst thing ever. Worse than Diet Coke with Splenda. Seriously.

But that's not the point of this point. The point is that I own a magic dog. Yes, you read that right. She has magical powers. She is a witch, much like that cute little Hermione Granger girl in those Potter books. And I'm not kidding. My mom, BGF, and I headed out for a day of visiting family and watching Madagascar. And I was in a hurry to get home because my little baby girl was locked up in a tiny little kennel! And I couldn't have her caged like an animal. Uh-uh. No way. I don't think so.

And of course we got home and she greeted us at the door. A FREE PUPPY. And my first thought was, "Somebody broke into the house and let her out!?" No kidding. I'm that dumb. So I run to the bathroom to see what the crap is going on in the kennel. And the kennel door has been pulled in from the inside. PULLED. INSIDE. My 7 pound dog got a hold of the door and pulled hard enough to break the lock and get out. She's magic!

Drama, Drama, Drama

My crazy aunt found out what's going on! Insanity shall ensue!

And in other news, I bought a new purse. It's brown. Because my other cute and casual brown purse was ruined by an evil blue pen that chose to go topless in this hot weather. Stupid pen. I taught it a lesson by showing it where trashy-purse-ruining pens belong. Have fun at the dump, sucker!

Day 2

I know I said I'd be gone all week, but I lied. Why? Because my aunt decided to step into the wonderful world of technology and get DSL. High speed internet is the gift that keeps on giving. But wait! It gets better! She has wi-fi! So I'm out here in the kitchen with the cute little laptop and the cutest little mouse I have ever seen, while BGF is lounging in the computer room with the desktop and a gigantic mouse that suits his gigantic, manly hands. (Except he is now done with said lounging and currently heading to Wal-Mart for sustenance. My aunt, she is not a snacker. Or a microwaver. She is a cooker. And I don't feel comfortable eating all of her food and dirtying her dishes when I can't even find the dish soap or have the ability to cook. So, frozen pizza, here I come!)

I totally would have blogged yesterday except I couldn't remember my password. How I remembered it today, I have no blessed idea. But I went to sign on and thought I'd just have Blogger e-mail me my password, when it came to me. Like a revelation. A dumb, slightly useless revelation, but exciting to me nonetheless. And exciting to you too, hapless reader! Because you get unexpected Cora joy! Woo-hoo!

So why am I on the internet at a relative's house without them here? Because I'm Grandpa-sitting, that's why! He is home from the hospital, but can't be left alone. I have to make sure he drinks every hour and gets the help he needs when he wants to move. (Which isn't very often.) It's kind of sad and a little depressing, I must admit. He was a really jolly old man when I was younger. He used to take me out to Rigg's Hardware store for a "nickel sody" (in a glass bottle!) and then take me to the park to feed the ducks and swing and play on the see saw. We'd come home and he'd do magic tricks for me or play games. It's also a family tradition to go the mall to bond (we're strange, yes?) and I'd always stick with him because he'd go in the toy stores with me. And now...he looks like a skeleton. He won't eat, I have to force him to drink and the most excitment he gets is when he turns on the television. He has lost the will to live. And there's nothing I can do but watch him.

My parents and aunt and uncle are at his house throwing things away and dividing up his earthly possessions. It's a difficult process for my mother and aunt. I've caught my mom more than once trying to recapture how things used to be. She plugged in their Christmas tree that they never took down. Started reading old cards and letters. She has taken out every single piece of clothing my grandmother owned and examined it. She keeps showing me these things from the past, hoping that I won't forget them. That I will remember what they were like back then. Or better, imagine what they were like when they were young. Back when Grandpa wrote love letters to his Bonnie May. Back when they had hope that things would get better and their lives would be full of happiness.

My grandma and I weren't that close, but I miss her. I miss her because she gave my grandpa a reason to live. I miss her because my mother was happier when she was around. I miss her because then we wouldn't have to sell that house and give away her clothes and cry when we look at pictures. I want her to come back and make things better. I want her to get up early and make biscuits and gravy for breakfast and drink sweet tea out of a jar. I want her to call my grandfater by his middle name and nag him about taking out the trash and washing the dishes. I want her to chew on a toothpick and ask me how my grades are. But really, I just want her to make Grandpa smile.

Instead, I'll go put some water in a sippy cup and hope he drinks it all.

Gone

I'm out for the rest of the week kiddos. Off to have "fun" with the fam in yet ANOTHER rented car. Because I'm moneybags. Or desperate to have a comfortable car for BGF and I to travel down in. A comfortable car with a big trunk so I can haul a bunch of my grandparents' stuff back home. What? I told you I was a packrat! Until then, be cool. Stay in school!

Your favorite Hollaback Girl,
Cora

Scent of a Woman

I've been meaning to post this for a while, but I keep forgetting. But then I was making my packing list just now because making lists is one of those simple joys I get out of life. There's nothing like making a list and crossing things off. I always feel so accomplished and organized and goal-oriented. Because I get to cross stuff off! Of a list! It's so cool! And a lot of times, I'll make sublists within my list, so I have more things to cross off. Like "t-shirts" will not just do. I then have to go into detail about what t-shirts I want to pack like, "Muffin Films" and "Arkansas Public Library" and "Liberal Arts Degree." Because I'm a dork. And this is not the point of my post. This point is this.

I've got a new scent!



It's really very lovely and feminine and makes me feel like an actual adult for owning real live eau de toilette instead of body splash. So, if you don't live near me, then go to your local department store and try it out. Unless you're a boy. Then I wouldn't suggest "trying it out" per se, because then you'd smell like a girl. And I'm pretty sure most of the boys who read this blog don't want to smell like a girl. But if you WANT to smell like a girl, then by all means, give this parfum a shot. You'll smell very pretty. And fabulous. And possibly gay. But you might like that. Which is fine. I don't know. I'm done.

I'll Fly Away

As I mentioned last post, I get to see my mother soon. In 3 days! I'm driving down to Tennessee and my parents are driving UP to Tennessee so we can all meet up at my aunt's house. Fortunately for me, my grandpa lives with my aunt and uncle, so I get to see a TON of relatives in one fell swoop. And I was really, really excited about this trip because I haven't seen my parents since Christmas.

Then my mom told me that this was going to be a "working vacation" because my grandpa has finally decided to sell his old house. He rarely visits anymore and hasn't lived there since my grandmother died 3 years ago. I'm not really sure what type of drugs my mother is on now, because I am the biggest packrat ever. Many a fight spawned from my desire to keep EVERYTHING I HAVE EVER ACQUIRED and her desire to GET RID OF IT ALL. The woman has practically no sentimental attachment to any object. None. It's one of the reasons why I thought I was adopted when I was little. How could she and I be related? Anyway, I figured it would suck a lot, but I'd be okay. I mean, at least I'd be getting to spend time with them and I'm really good at making my parents go have fun when they want to work. Something about being an only child and never getting to see them and quality time. Trust me. It works EVERY TIME.

But then my grandfather was rushed to the hospital yesterday.

He was really dizzy and his heart beat was wacko. My mom left home early this morning in order to see my grandpa as soon as possible. And she was in tears when she called me today to tell me they had moved him to the ICU because the doctors couldn't stabilize his heart. She thinks this is the end. I can tell. But she won't admit it.

I'm really worried. My mom completely freaked when my grandma died. And she was even closer to my grandpa. She's daddy's little girl. And daddy is dying.

I Have a Crush

This has been an exciting week because I received two packages in the mail. Yes! Two! That's the number after one! TWO!!!! It may come as a shock to you that this is SO NOT normal for me.

Package #1: Yesterday, my Amazon order came in. I got this cd and this book. Woo-hoo! I'm gonna make a copy of the cd for my mom, WHO I GET TO SEE IN 4 DAYS!

Package #2: The real excitment was from my dear friend Gina. When I came home from work today, there it was, pathetically stuck in my mail slot. Stupid postman! Fortunately, it didn't rain or anything today, so the package escaped unscathed. Inside were an assortment of gifts including my very own boyfriend! But the BEST gift, BY FAR, was the most wonderful book ever written. It's Happy Bunny: Love Bites. And people, let me tell you, if somebody knows that love bites, it's this little bunny. In fact, I'm pretty sure we have dated the same guys. Poor us!

Anyway, here's my favorite quote (for now) from the book. It's from Chapter 2, Spying.

"It's just like when two people in love go for a long walk except one of them doesn't know they're being followed."

Ha!