12.31.03
worked half a day at Dreamplex 1.0.
i have a splinter in my knuckle and a collapsed lung to show for it. this time i was putting some kind of Stain Killer/Mildewcide Primer of Doom on the ceiling and the fumes from this brushed on poison fell straight into my lung and the smell decided to plant itself in my throat.
so now drinking water is...interesting.
tastes like poison.

the flavor is starting to grow on me though. i just hope it doesn't ruin my beer tonight.

also we swept the place with a shopvac so it looks: so good or no good? SO GOOD!

i also put a ton of poison out for las cucarachas y los ratons. como se dice..."i keel you all! dead! i keel you!"? the rat poison smells familiar...kinda minty actually. but i refrained from tasting it. laura, aren't you proud? i had one of those ally mcbeal moments where i pictured myself in the hospital after having my stomach pumped and there were all of my friends standing around looking at me very sternly as i said, "whaaaaat? i just tasted it! i wasn't going to eat it all!"
very stern looks all around.
"it smelled minty."

and yes, getting my stomach pumped would make a fantabulous weekly, but i just don't have the money to spend on Emergency Room Shenannigans, because right now i'm spending it all on half round and corner moulding. i feel so adultish. i'm buying wood.

and let me tell you ladies something, buying wood (stop it, you perv) is totally a dude's job (i said stop). not because it's a difficult task, oh heavens no, but because it involves going to The Hardware Store. i think everytime i go to the hardware store an alarm goes off inside the place right before i walk in the door.
"BRRRRRP! BRRRRP! WARNING! A FEMALE IS APPROACHING! REPEAT: A FEMALE IS APPROACHING! ALL EMPLOYEES TO THE FRONT! BE PREPARED TO STARE! SHE'LL PROBABLY HAVE TITS SO BE SURE TO GET AN EYEFUL BEFORE ASKING IF SHE NEEDS ANY HELP! REPEAT: STARE AT TITS AND ASK IF SHE NEEDS HELP!"

well, something like that.

12.30.03
i worked at Dreamplex 1.0 again. i wish i had pictures to show you. we ripped down the paneling yesterday and we scraped and sanded all day today and now the walls look really fucking cool. also my snot is black. well, it was black, but then i blew my nose til it ran clear...well, red then clear.
ew. i know.

but now i have wood walls in the "bedroom" of Shithole 805-A.
dad and i call it the shithole but really it's not nearly as shithole as we thought it was going to be. but shithole is just so much fun to say that we now have to call it that. in fact, we've been talking about getting a video camera and filming the "renovation" and calling it Monster Shithole and seeing if we can sell it to Discovery Channel. we've also tossed about ideas of While You Were Out...We Fixed Up Your Shithole and then i thought that if nathan and i decorated each other's shitholes (watch it) we could call it Trading Shitholes.

there's shitholes of money to be made off this folks.

12.29.03
my dad and i worked on the duplex today. i'm gonna start calling it the Dreamplex, because there's still SO much to do to make it livable. well, livible for me. i'm not living in a place where i don't feel comfortable walking around in my bare feet. and at the moment, i wouldn't walk around there with birks on. not even socksnbirks.

we thought we were gonna start painting today. well, the Dreamplex had other ideas.

we ended up ripping out paneling (hi laura! no no! we didn't tear up the place. honest! it wasn't us! it was the one-armed man!) and also lotsa scraping some kind of ancient masonite/wallpaper blech that was underneath the paneling. i inhaled all the scrapings. so now i cough the Dry Hack Cough of Woe. and i get to get up tomorrow and do it all again.
yay!

but hey, dad got all the lights working! he also got electrocuted. oops. he was all, "damn! well hey, whattyaknow? my shoulder feels better! ...but now my heart hurts."
poor dad.

12.28.03
on the way to the movies this afternoon i said to the fleegan, "you know, if you ever decide to ask me to marry you...instead of saying the regular ol' Will You Marry Me schtick... would you ask me to be your Leather Tuscadero? please? that would be so cool."

he laughed; and he said no.

we are never getting married. and i think that even if we were to be engaged to be married i still wouldn't believe we'd ever get married. and even, even if it were our wedding day i still wouldn't believe we were getting married. even when we're standing in front of the priest/justice of the peace/captain of the Love Boat exchanging vows i wouldn't believe we were getting married. and i'm certain that two weeks after our marriage our wedding would seem like a distant dream that i had had, and i would find myself saying, "hey, did we get married? or was that someone else's wedding we went to? because the thing is...did i catch the bouquet or throw it?"

but i don't want a wedding. in fact, i never want to go to another wedding ever. i'd rather be struck dead right now than to ever have to go to another wedding. in point of fact, i've wished for that very thing about six weddings ago. i don't want a wedding. i just want to be the best Leather Tuscadero i can be for my Fonzie Fleegan.

and yes, while i agree that my Happy Days themed wedding would be the coolest fucking thing ever, it would also be the siren call of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse. and i don't want to be responsible for the end of the world. well that, and i owe Famine some money.

12.23.03
my brother comes to town today.
hmm, i should go buy more booze.

12.22.03
you know, after all of this time, i still still still wish that the evil priest was a good guy. i wish that he liked us.

each time i go to church beit on a sunday or holiday or stupid meeting i think, 'hey. maybe this time will be different.' and it never is.

why am i so hopeful? i'm never this hopeful about anything. it seems like a huge waste.

i can't figure it out.

12.21.03
if you are a normal, god-fearing soul then you probably hate the Old Navy commercials as much as my father and i hate them. we hate them with the burning hot hatred of 1,000 burning hot sons of hate. we especially hate the one with the nanny on it. you know the one. "my shizzle's gone fuzzizzle!"

yeah. that one.

so i said to dad, "hey, i think what that means is, 'my shit's f*cked.' right? is that what it means?"
and dad says, "i don't know. i don't speak bling."
i laughed and laughed.

i told that story to danny and mike yesterday and danny immediately said, "no habla bling." mike responded with, "sprechen se bling?"

and now, dad and i are calling each other Bling, Bling-Blang, and Money. all of this after we had a conversation on just exactly what kind of degree dr. dre has.
we figure it's in linguistics.

12.19.03
on laura's blog today she mentions, okay wait. i'm referring to a blog on a blog. there's something unholy postmodern about that. anyway, she mentions the Bad Ol' Days, which weren't all that bad really, well yes, they were, but so much time has passed that to even think of the Bad Ol' Days as being BAd with a capital BA, oops, spelling error. what i'm trying to say is that laura apologized on her blog so i will accept her apology on my blog AND THAT's what i meant about unholy postmodernism.

laura, apology accepted. so don't ever mention any of that shit ever again.
we bury it here, in glorious hypertext.

but then i got to thinking of the Bad Ol' Days and of the total awkwardness that we (the fleegan and i) experienced. heh. how crazy. i think that if we could've just had this conversation right off the bat then things would have been much easier:

"hmm. it appears that our stupid best friends are dating."
"those assholes."
"i know."
"well, uh. huh. should i just take you home or uh, you wanna see a movie?"
"a movie? with you?"
"yeah?"
"ok sounds good. but nothing cheesey. also we're not dating."
"ok. marry me?"
"yes!"
"cool."

see, jimmy and i would be raising our 2.5 fleegans by now.

but no, it all had to be painfully slow and awkward.

i remember sitting on a swing with jimmy (aw, how quaint) thinking:
i wonder if he likes me? i'll scooch over a bit and see if he moves.
he didn't move! i wonder if he'll kiss me tonight? i wonder if he thinks i want to be kissed. maybe he'll kiss me. of course, he's so much older than me. if i let him kiss me, maybe he'll think i want to go all the way...that asshole better not kiss me or i'll punch him in the throat.

still, i wish he'd just kiss me already.

12.18.03
i rented another game last night. it's called Gladius and it sucks. it is so slow and boring.

i have another boring church meeting tonight. i just hope it goes better than the one last night, which by the way, WAS A COMPLETE WASTE OF F!@*ING TIME. i know, what's new, right? i should be used to these meetings being pointless and time wasting by now. the thing is, i really believe that they could be used for the power of good. i know, poor, sweet, gullible jaimie.

we finally got a list of names of available pastors. so that's good. you'd think that that would speed up this process some. and now comes the interviews.
it's weird because we have these information sheets on all these guys so we know most of their beliefs or whatnots already. so basically i think the interview should go like this:

"so, you're a lutheran pastor, huh?"
"yeah."
"ok great, so you breathe oxygen, right?"
"um, yeah."
"and you're currently not a zombie?"
"no."
"do you hate people?"
"what? no! i love people!"
"great. great. would you describe yourself as a nice guy/teamplayer who works well with others, or would you say that you're an egotistical, no-personality asshole?"
"um, the first one?"
"uh huh and one more question, we know you're lutheran, but do you believe in god?"
"yes, very much."
"great, yer hired. and listen, no chanting during worship, got it?"

12.17.03
did some more christmas shopping today. wow. i need money. and when i get money the money goes, "hi jaimie! i'm money. bye!" and then it's gone, back into the world. i guess that's how money works. i've spent way too much this christmas, but hey, who hasn't?

also made the mistake of eating chinese buffet for lunch. ow.
the thing about those places is that i have no self control. i eat WAY too much meat. and i think my system goes into Meat Shock.
*alarms*
stomach: oh my god! what has she done?!
brain: apparently she ate 2 quarts of Hong Kong BBQ Chicken and a bushel of Mongorian Beef.
stomach: what?! oh for the love. she hasn't eaten that much meat ALL MONTH! why would she do that in one meal?
colon: don't worry. she'll get hers. oh yes, she'll get hers.

12.14.03
we (mr. fleegan and i) rented a video game this weekend.
now i remember why i put the PS2 away.

i suck at video games. actually, for a girl, i think i'm a pretty fair player. but i lose interest very quickly. and having to play the same level over and over really pisses me off. so i guess i'm not a lover of games, but i do like games. mostly i like to watch people play games.

the problem i have with my PS2 is that all the games make you use the joystick thingie when they put a PERFECTLY good direction pad on the controller. hello?! i spent approximately all my pre-teen and half my teenage years playing with a direction pad! i need it! why are YOU LIMITING ME TO A STUPID JOYSTICK THINGIE THAT COMPLETELY GETS THE CHARACTER FARBLED AROUND!?! FARBLE YOU! YOU SHOULD BE FARBLING ASHAMED OF YOURSELVES!

and the fact that i hate the joystick just makes me a total non-gamer. i know.
well, fuck you game geeks. i want my controller back.

also, when playing video games i become the Incredible Cursing Woman. such a mouth on this girl. here i am at my parents house (w/guests) and i'm having a cursing fit big enough to make billy martin look like a jehovah's witness complete with Controller Tantrum.
"why is it that when i press UP the garble darble marble farbling cursor farble target thingie farbling moves DOWN?! that makes no garble darble sense! farble! sharble!

anyway, we rented True Crime blah blah L.A. Something. it's fun but kind of aimless. mainly just killing people and driving cars. and swearing.
but i'm not the only one swearing! the game also has a foul mouth and the songs in the background are nasty. there was a rap song in it that said something about "sweaty balls". look game, i'm trying to run over bad guys here, i don't need "sweaty balls" floating around in my subconscious. and the main guy, nick something (mr. fleegan and i are calling him Neek, in honor of the greatest movie ever) he cusses all the time. it's strange. i've never played a game like that before.
<old man voice>
why, back in my day, video games didn't have swear words! we didn't need 'em! we had voice balloons with "#@$*!!" in 'em. and that was good enough for us! dammit.
</old man voice>

anyway, i'm sure there's hoochies in this game somewhere, but we haven't gotten to that level yet.

12.11.03
laura is the best friend ever. she totally revamped my site to look all cool and hip.
it's got the fleegan up there and everything! i am so excited.
also, she's the one who added "girly boobies" at the top.
yes she did.
oh yes, she did.

12.09.03
laura now has a blog! it's very pretty. i am jealous. but just a little. not enough to warrant me putting a hex on her blog or anything. besides she's using geocities and netscape...she needs no hex.

i was talking to her this morning and this happened:

J: laura, i think that if i woke up with the stigmata i would totally not be surprised.

LBC: heh. probably not. would any of us be surprised?

J: you would get the phone call though.

LBC: *in a pissy voice* "well, i got the stigmata, dammit."

J: hahahaha i would totally be angry about it! "took ya long enough, stigmata! moron."

12.04.03
i have mentioned before that my life has many sitcom moments. it's to the point where if i was handed a script in the morning i would hardly be surprised, just very pissed off that i was not consulted on the writing and the fact that my Great Big Funny Moment of the Day would not be as funny as Yesterday's Great Big Funny Moment of the Day. also, does my character have to swear so much? such a potty mouth that girl!

but mom and i were sitting at the table and we were talking about nothing (i think it was about christmas cards) and then we blasted a family member because they are so hateful toward their kids and mom said something like, "we never did that to you kids did we?" and i said, "no mom, you never told us we were fat and ugly." and it was about to be a tender moment...when mom suddenly ripped one. a long one. tweefraaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaap!

so i looked away from mom and said, "CUT! i simply cannot work under these conditions. perhaps we could get a real actress or something? what's emma thompson doing?"

and mom did the singsong, "TV Daughter!" because now, the sitcom moments are so common we have a singsong word for it. and aren't you jealous?

12.01.03 i had to listen to a Leon Russell CD at work today. dad picked it. let me just say, i am not a fan. i don't hate his music, but i would not pay money for it. i can't exactly pinpoint why i don't like his music, but i think it has something to do with the fact that he is obviously part of the Neil Young "i wrote the damn song and even though i can't sing worth a shit, i'm gonna sing MY songs, by god" School of Music. gah. it's like listening to an hours worth of nails on a chalk board...only with slightly less social messages than a Neil Young CD.

November 2003 Dribblings

October 2003 Dribblings

September 2003 Dribblings

August 2003 Dribblings