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Lice, Spiders, Earwigs & Popsicles

2002-07-31 - 10:10 p.m.

So here we are. The last day of July. And here it seems it was just summer solstice . . . In a few hours it will be August. And it seems that this August of 2002 will be shaping up to be one of the craziest Augusts I've ever encountered in all of my soon to be 24 years.

First off - my nails have been cut, and for those of you that were inquiring - NO, not by Ben, but by me, and with nail clippers, not my mouth. "So what was the end result? What did you get for it?" Monique asked me. Sadly, I got nothing, other than the warm fuzzy feeling that I could go that long without wreaking havoc on my nails (toes AND fingers thank you very much) - warm and fuzzy indeed! Either that or I was sitting on the dryer too long. . .

Too hot. Too hot. It was so hot. I hate it. I would rather be teetering above Tiger Steeps with the snot frozen to my upper lip and no feeling in my lower extremities than have to wake up in the morning sweating. And not "my nightmare was so Phantom-Of-The-Muppet-Show-scary that I wake up in a cold sweat" kind of sweat either, but sweat sweat. I hate it. Every morning I wake up all hot, confused, and Imus is yelling at me about something or other. Too hot out.

Baseball strike? You know what I have to say about that don't you? I think that it would be lame. With a capital "V" for, if you excuse my french, Very Lame.

Mmmmmm, but even though it's hot - mmmmmm, lime popsicles. So green, and so sweet and citrusy, and so makes my face hot because I have all these weird reactions to things that I totally shouldn't like Gatorade giving me eyeaches, but mmm, mmmmm, mmmmmm are lime popsicles tasty. And you know what else is good? Those strawberry eclairs! Mmmmm. I don't know why they are called eclairs though, since an eclair is a pastry with chocolate on it and cream inside, but I still love them and I used to get them for 35 cents at Pleasant Street School. I don't have any now. I wish I did. Mmmmmmmm . . .

May not be an eclair, but it ain't no shortcake neither. . .

Ah ha ha ha . . . random on RealJukebox just brought up a Chipmunk Adventure track. I love it. B-Slop, you would appreciate the thrill of getting "Off To See The World" when you're not expecting it, but you won't even be reading this entry until September so oh well . . .

Argh - you can't even type September without thinking of it. The whole month is black. Argh.

So not many pictures came out that well from the BBBQ. Sad. Of course, some pictures of Rich sticking out his tongue were salvaged so it wasn't a total waste. Ben's black and whites came out OK, but when you're paying for oversized black and white film, you really want more than OK. If anyone has some good pics of the BBBQ, make a copy, save me one.

So my mother calls to tell me that she is sad that all the whales keep beaching themselves and it makes her sad. (She speaks in that redundant style, I only type what I hear - you should hear her with Audrey). And not only does it make her sad and want to cry but it makes my cat sad too. [Sigh] But not *too* sad she says, because then she reminds the cat that she (the cat) never really liked whales to begin with, and so while my cat is sad they are dying (as they too are God's creatures) there is no big love loss between them either. I shouldn't have to tell most of you how fucked up this whole thing really is. . .

Ok - I am scared that I have leg lice. Can you get lice in your legs? I especially notice it when I'm on the computer. I notice that my legs really itch when I sit by the computer and it always feels like there are bugs hopping around on my leg. Sometimes from one spot to another spot on the same leg, sometimes running in place, and sometimes from leg to leg. I hate them. But the worst part is that I think they burrowed under my skin sometime ago and made their way to my brain. So they've either done battle with the earwigs they found there that were formerly in control, or they joined forces. Their newest accomplishment is that they make me think that Kendal on the newest Road Rules is cute, nay - hot. First it was Keri on Real World Chicago, which I could handle, because 1.) Keri wasn't really a "blonde" by definition, 2.) She liked drinking, which is never bad, and 3.) She had lips that were painted on by God's chief lip painter. Plus, she didn't seem like a stupid bitch girl. And those are the worst kind - trust me. Always being stupid. And bitchy. So, but Kendal?! She is as blonde as they come. She's all dumb and flirty and aren't I cute, she's . . .ARGH - here, the vapid minds at MTV can sum it up better than I can (and remember, these are some smart melons, of the highest order. It takes a genius to squander talent like The State and Sifl & Olly - the editing marks, astericks & brackets and such are, quite obviously, mine): ------ "With her *GOLDEN HAIR* and dimples, *angel-faced* Kendal is a total sweetheart [totally] with a penchant for trouble [uh-oh!]. When it comes to parties and boys, this 21-year-old is game for anything [Which is the same euphemism they used to describe Cara McSleepsWithAllOfChicago]. She's had a steady stream of boyfriends over the years, and couldn't remain faithful to a single one [Um, that already sounds damning enough - I don't think I can improve on their simplistic description of her slu-tay ways]. But Kendal has a heart-wrenching past [here it comes]: Her father committed suicide when she was 12, and her flight attendant mother was constantly away. Kendal was forced to fend for herself [Against what? Bears?] and is still dealing with those consequences; she wants to be strong, but can't help being vulnerable [awwwwwwwww! :) ;) I *heart* her! *PUKE*]." ------ But see, after all that I should hate her even more! She's so dumb and stupid and everything I hate! People know my feelings on mom's that are flight attendants too, so that's not helping matters! So why do I feel like I want to go see a matinee of As Good As It Gets with her?!?!? AHHHHHHHHHHHH! This is eating what little is left of my soul that RealJukebox didn't eat last night. I need to go into Rehab and watch nothing but NewsRadio for 48 hours and I will be back to normal . . . I hope.

"Hooray!! A 'Mad About You' Marathon!! Let's snuggle!!"

So got our plane tickets for San Fran back to the east coast. I don't know if it's to Boston or Manchester. I should check that out. I am starting to get really nervous/excited about the trip. I know we will have tons of fun and I know there will be many stories/adventures to speak of for many a moons so that is the best part. People are warning me that it is going to be an apocalyptic trip and that they're will be a fussin' and a feudiin' and whatnot. Someone told me, "Oh man, you and Tim are gonna be at each other's throats!" But I disagree. I think that, while every combination (not that there is that many) has potential for conflict, I think that Tim vs. Zach is the least likely. Honestly. I think Tim vs. Ben and Ben vs. Zach is much much more likely. And I think the other two would both agree with me. But who cares, it is going to be so much fun, and it will be a total race against time, as we seemed to have slightly UNDERbudgeted how much time it would take us, and all we know is that we have to be in San Francisco by the 25th for Ben and I to catch our plane. It will be mad-cap and zany, I just know it. PLUS!!, Tim will have his computer with him, so I will be able to update my wiggity wack journal with ziggity-zig-zag-Zachalicious updates like "Thinking of you in dusty Tuscaloosa . . .", and "Testicularly Yours in Truth or Consequences, New Mexico . . ." Despite the fact that I know we won't go near either of those places. I told Nanny today that I was going, but I kinda thought she already knew. So instead of telling her, I started a sentence with "So you know, when I go to California . . ." I was quickly cut of with a "WHAT?!" and then I was like -oh shit- and she goes on and on about how that makes her nervous. Ok though, you need to know that EVERYTHING makes my Nanny nervous. She is so not one of those elderly old ladies that sits in her rocking chair fretting over everything - she is actually quite active - but the light turning from red to green makes her nervous. Seriously, I was cutting cucumbers one time and it made her NERVOUS. I think K-Slop wore his hat sideways one time and it made her nervous. Well, that's a bad example, since K-Slop himself is like a giant nervous bomb to her. But anyway, so after she gets telling me that she is nervous about me going, and I keep telling her not to be, she says "Why don't you just stay out there? Move out there? It'd be nice - but I'd rather you live in New York, then I can come visit you. Please don't move to California. Stay in New York." So crazy. So so crazy. I am scared for me. Nanny, then my mother - I have no hope. The Foote side certainly isn't going to do me any favors. Unless it skips a generation with the Footes, then I'm ok. But she said she'd give me postcard stamps and regular stamps for an early birthday present! So that rocks - as I really need them for the trip. One year, "clear tacks" were the #1 thing I told my parents I wanted for my birthday. Yeah. Birthday! Which reminds me . . . no wait . . .this first -

SO, if you want mail, any of you, make sure I have your address, cause I want to be sending out funny postcards from EVERYWHERE we go. So if you are hankering for that Pink Dinosaur against the Purple Mountain's Majesty postcard then make sure you e-mail me your mailing address at I'll make it worth your while, I swear!

So, as I write this entry, we are minutes away from McLaughlin's 25th birthday. God, the Tim's are soooooo old. Old Old Old. I'm glad I'm not as ancient as them. We're gonna try to meet Tim when we get out to California, but he'll have to meet us somewhere, as I don't know how close Twenty-Nine Palms is to where we'll be. We'll see. We'll see. Maybe we can start a barbie bonfire out in that there desert! In the meantime, Happy Birthday McLaughlin!

FUCK!! There was this huge mother whoring spider on the wall just a second ago and then I went to find a cinder block to kill it with and when I came back he was gone. He is so making his way to my pillow cases . . .

So last night Peter says to me he says, concerning the trip: "The way I look at it, there's pros and cons to you going across country with Ben and Tim." "Yeah?" I ask him. "Well, you're gonna get gang raped. You might as well face it now, before you leave - the gang rape *will* happen to you." "Um, is this a pro or a con?" "It's all in what you make of it. It's all in what you make of it."

So yeah.

It's been real,


ps - and Pepsi Blue? Um, Clyde . . . . . . . . . . . . please.

pps - Ha Ha, I just found and killed the fucker with a Sunday Globe . . .

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2002 - 2009 ZQF8

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