I Have Found the Secret to Happiness

It's called Summer Vacation.

What joy is mine!! Last night I went to the pool at midnight. It was awe inspiring. There was no one there and I seriously considered taking off my insignificant bathing suit, but eventually decided it was too risky. But, oh! What fun!

I can sleep as long as I want, watch A Different World twice a day, and go swimming at midnight. What could be better?

I recommend everyone take a summer vacation! It's the best! Just make sure you're getting paid for it.

In other news, my whole family is in Canada, but they didn't invite me. Something about how if I wanted to travel the world I should have gone to a state school or some ridiculous nonsense like that! If I DID go to a state school, how could I possibly justify hanging my diploma in the ridiculously gaudy frame it stays in currently?! Do you even get diplomas at state schools?! Anyway - whatev. I don't need 'em. Go to Canada, family! Go! I DON'T CARE! And when, one day, I'm famous and all the Canadians love me because I endorse the Bare Naked Ladies, I'll make sure to get them to DIS-invite you to their country. Unfortunately, you probably won't be missing much, but at least VENGANCE WILL HAVE BEEN SERVED!!!!!!!!!! bwa. ha. ha.

Tuesday is close to Monday...right?

Okay, I know that I said that my daily schedule would be posted by Monday, but see, I forgot that Monday was a holiday...and I know what you're thinking: "Queeniii, EVERY day is a holiday for you right now!!"

That's true, but it WAS a holiday for all my friends who work all the time, so I had to hang out with them. HAD to.

But anyway - I've compiled a daily schedule and it should be pretty good, and I know all of you can rest assured that I'm not just sitting around in my pajamas, watching TV, not doing anything, building up resentment between us because I'm at home all day and I CAN'T EVEN DO THE LAUNDRY?!!

So, here goes:

1. Wake-up before noon
2. do some sort of workout, so I don't balloon up to 400 pounds
3. eat some breakfast - but not too much
4. play with my dog while also teaching him to be obedient
5. write on the blog
6. brush up on my espanol
7. read some stuff
8. write curriculm for next year
9. clean up after myself
10. and finally, do something exciting and adventerous

every day.

So, what do you think? Awesome or what? I should also schedule some time for Summer Lovin'....anyone got T.O.'s number?

I don't care what anybody says, I love him.

What I'm Doing Now

Nothing. I'm not doing anything. It's almost 2:30 pm and I haven't even managed to get out of my pajamas. I'm disgusting.

Something will have to change. I'm going to have to DO something...and whilst watching KERA IS in fact educational, I don't think that it acutally counts as doing anything.

I need to wash my hair...and my face. At least I've brushed my teeth! That's a start. If I had some money, I could do LOTS of stuff. I don't, however, so I'll have to be creative.

What to do...what to do....

I've already saying the phrases Paul M. Sark suggested for me practice. I'm pretty good at saying them, too! You shold hear me!!!

Anyway, I think that in about 30 minutes, I'll start to work up the motivation to WRITE DOWN some ideas of what I could do with all my free time. My commitment to my faithful readers is that I WILL HAVE MY DAILY SCHEDULE POSTED BY MONDAY!! This way, you can all rest easy that I'm not just wasting my life away while you all have to go to work every day.

I wouldn't want there to be any resentment between us!

Did I mention that I get paid to do nothing for 2 months and 2 weeks?

The Last Day of School

Ahhhh....the last day of school. Now, don't get me wrong. I LOVE my job. LOVE IT. But is there anyone out there who can really say that they wouldn't look foward to 2 consecutive months of paid vacation? I can't think of anyone. Actually, it's more like 2 months and 2 weeks, but who's counting?

However, the last day of school is always just a big joke. There's never actually any school in the last day of school. Everyone knows it and no one would even try to deny it. But when there's no school at school, that's when all HELL breaks loose.

This morning, before it got unbearably hot, I let my students play outside. It was great - and easy! Easier than my job usually is - which is saying something! But then, 3rd grade came out to play. 3rd grade is the bain of my existence. They're awful. Horrible, even! However, I thought that they'd be okay just running around outside!

Oh, I am a fool indeed! In the span of about 20 minutes, I broke up 2 small fights and 1 HUGE fight (yes, we're talking about 9 year-olds). One child fell and began bleeding PROFUSELY and all over me, too, and finally one child had to be sent to the nurse's office, as he was the victim of the HUGE fight, in which several boys punched him and stepped on him.

I am so serious. They're 9. And violent. I wish every day that corporal punishment was still legal.

I know what you're all thinking: "Queeniii, how could you SAY that?! That's just teaching children to solve their problems with violence! That's no way to teach children!!"

And I say to you, come teach in the hood. Do it. Then, we'll talk.

Needless to say, the rest of my classes get to stay in and watch The Neverending Story (aah ah aah ah aah ah) in the nice, cool air conditioning. I never tell them beforehand that Artex is a doomed horse...is that wrong?

But, hey! At least I'm not bored today!!! Hallelu!

Bored Out of My Mind

This is me, from sunrise to sunset.

I've gone from being incredibly, ridiculously, terribly busy and over-committed to incredibly, ridiculously, terribly NOT busy and under-committed.

This is WHY I over-commit. I fear boredom. Like the plague. And now I'm bored. I feel like I have the plague.

You'd think after the crazy few months I've had, I'd be eager to have nothing to do. I thought I would be, too. But, I'm not. I'm bored. so. so. so. so. very. bored.

There's nothing left to do at school. bored.

My house is clean enough. bored.

The guy I've been casually dating works all the time...or just doesn't want to see me anymore. bored.

Forky's ALWAYS in rehearsal. bored.

I'm TRYING to be good and NOT call any former members of the AlmaU football team that I may still be in remote contact with. bored.

I don't have any money, so I can't go shopping. bored.

I already balanced my checkbook...twice. bored.

Go Fug Yourself has only been averging 2 posts a day. bored.

Did I mention I'm really fighting the urge to call the AlmaU football team? bored.

BORED, BORED, BORED! out of my mind. What am I going to do?! My life without drama, adventure, and over-committing is a sad empty shell! Soon, I'll be on summer break. I'm terrified! I need something to do. I'm open to any suggestions that aren't crappy. Also, if anyone has T.O.'s number, could you help a sister out and fork it over? Thanks. I'm going to go bang my head against a wall.

An All-Time Low

So, as many of you may already know from reading Forky's post about my emergency room stint, I was sick last week.

Now, I've had some stomach flu before. You just take some Phrenegen, sleep a lot and wish for about 24 hours that you could just die already. But this...this was the stomach flu of all stomach flus! I had never, in all my life, felt exactly like I did last Wednesday. I thought aliens were growing in my stomach. I didn't know what to do, so I called the Doctor - the on-call Doctor, of course. I told her I was having severe stomach cramps. She made a noise...like an "oh, shit" noise...followed by, "If your cramps get ANY worse, you need to go to the Emergency Room immediately." Great.

They got worse. I got my cousin to drop my pathetic, puking self off at the Emergency Room. I could barely walk inside. I was crying and speaking in very low tones (which, if you've ever been around me is VERY unusual for me), but I managed to check myself in. I found a place big enough in the window sill to lie down. It was a pathetic scene. But it didn't end there - oh, no!

Keep in mind that I had the stomach flu - at that point in time, I didn't know what it was - and that throwing up is a very key element in said flu. I made my way to the emergency room bathroom and proceeded to collapse by the toilet. I stayed there a good while and eventually just went ahead and dozed off, right there on the floor of the emergency room bathroom. And that was it - that right there was an all new low point for me. Falling asleep on the bathroom floor of the ER - and I just didn't even care. I was so sick, I just was thankful for a cool place in which I could remain horizontal.

3 1/2 hours later, they got me into a room, gave me a shot in my butt and a pill under my tongue and sent me home. And while I was thankful for the drugs, they didn't offer any consolation for having to put my face down on ER tile, but whatev. The drugs were strong, so I was happy.

All's well that ends well, I guess.

My Own Personal Hell

If I died and went to hell, I would be punished by being constantly ignored. Those of you who do know me, know that I am an attention whore. I don't try to deny it. I know what I am.

In this personal hell of mine, I would be constantly trying to make other people laugh by saying really witty things, doing my fake fainting trick, singing, tap dancing, droppin' it like it's hot, twirling my batons, jumping, yelling, and crying in order to try and get someone to notice me, but no one would. Just thinking about it makes me shudder!

So, yesterday, I gave my very own father my blog address and I know for sure that yesterday he looked at it. BUT - he made NO comments. There's no real way to know for sure that he's really paying attention to me unless he makes some comments, BUT THERE ARE NONE!!!

Dad - if you're reading this, I have to ask: ARE YOU IGNORING ME?!!!!

omg. I. have. issues. Seriously.

To Forky: I'm tired of repeating myself.

Forky and I have been "Besties" since we were 18. Since before the gay boyfriend. Since before, really, the dawn of time. In many ways, we've kind of grown up together. We've experienced many changes on this road of life together, but there is one thing that never, NEVER changes. It is this conversation:

"Forky, I'm too depressed to (eat, drink, sleep, have fun, etc.) because of (whatever my current [insignificant] crisis may be). I WANT TO DIE!!!!!"

"Queen iii, don't you think you might be overreacting just a little?"

"No!!! I'm not!! (Current [insignificant] crisis) is (insert any word that is related to total detriment, demise, or tragedy here) and MY LIFE IS OVER!!"

"Don't you think that you might want to give it, like, more than 2 hours before you so hastily decide that your life is really just one big tragedy? I mean, you could be overreacting just a tad. And didn't I tell you that if you (insert previous action that lead to current [insignificant] crisis) this would happen?"

"First of all, I DO NOT OVERREACT!!!!! Okay?! (Current [insignificant] crises) is going to be the death of me! And, I don't remember any conversation in which you told me anything about anything!" {The last statement is of course, a bold-faced lie.}

Fast-foward to the next day.

"Hey, Forky! What's up?"

"Nothing."

"So, umm, yeah, it really wasn't that bad. I might have been overreacting. tee hee."

"Really. Imagine that."

"You wanna go get drunk tonight?"

"No. I have rehearsal."

Forky and I have this same conversation, with noted variations at least once a week. We should be having it today, but I'm pretty tired of repeating myself and I'm sure that Forky is too. I'm just guessing. Forky, if you feel like having this conversation over again, just call me. I'd rather just forgo the whole process. Maybe we could think of, like, a shortened version of the whole thing...any ideas? I'm pretty open.

Oh, and by the way, last night, I might have been overreacting. tee hee.

Who in the world is Grant Miller?!

Who IS he?!

And how did he find our blogs?!! The only people that read my blog are the people that I went to good ol' Alma U with. And a sprinkling of other people, and while I, of course, want to be the MOST POPULAR BLOG EVER, I am content with being just kind of popular amongst the people that I know.

But, I don't know Grant Miller! He found Forky's blog first, which made me curious, so I did some investigation and even participated in his delightfully entertaining and very active blog. Here's what I have ascertained:
He's 33. His picture is therefore fake, but funny. He is some type of journalist. He is married. He might live in Chicago or somewhere in the near viscinity. He has lots of friends who also have funny blogs. He's a White Sox fan. He doesn't eat ketchup on his corn dogs. But, who IS he? And how did he find us?! It's all so mysterious and I NEED TO KNOW!!!!!!

Grant Miller, if you're reading this, throw me a bone or something! I'm dying! At least give me like ONE piece of the puzzle - SOMETHING!!! I like your blog and I like your friends' blogs, but I really, really need to know something about the mystery that is Grant Miller.

T.O., baby. You're makin' this hard for me! Seriously.

Honey, stick to what you know.

I knew it was out there, but I was avoiding it like the plague, kind of how my mother does about my drinking habit.

But, I finally decided I had to face it and see what was really going on with...wait for it...T.O.'s rap song. Oh, holy jebus. It's so bad. Tragically bad. Greek tragedy bad. Jude the Obscure bad. So bad, in fact, many people thought it was a joke.

Needless to say, this song has definitly put our relationship in the "we need space" department, which is so hard for me, because as most of you already know, I don't even really actually know him.

Who in their infinite wisdom thought this was a good idea?! Why didn't his publicist or agent stop him?!! WHY DOESN'T ANYONE EVER CONSULT ME ON THIS??!!! I love him. I have his best interest at heart! And yet, I am constantly ignored. The fact that I've never actually met T.O., or spoken with him seems an insignificant detail! I can't be THAT hard to find!

The song, it's broken my heart. BROKEN IT!!! I don't know if we'll ever be the same. Why, T.O., WHY?!

Okay, here goes...I was wro...wro....oh! this is so hard to say...i was...wrong. wrong. I was wrong.

Jim Baker and I have a lot in common.


Wow! I pride myself on being fairly perceptive, on being "in the know". I mean, I was voted "Miss Know-It-All" of my senior class! And I'm sure that my classmates weren't mocking me. I KNOW they all gave me that title because I did actually know it all...right?!

So, it's not easy for me to admit when I'm wrong. Because I think I know it all. And that, my friends is my tragic flaw. Let me explain:

A week or two ago, I posted an entry explaining why it was not wrong to let my
ex-boyfriend wash and wax my car.
Please refer to it here. Please pay close attenion the comment section where several, SEVERAL of you told me that I was a fool. I didn't listen. I thought I knew what I was doing.

Yesterday, I received a text message from Italian Ex-boyfriend (sigh). It said, and I quote VERBATIM:
"I had a explicit dream about u last night. xxx style! lol!"

I am sick. I cannot believe this happened!! I was wrong. So wrong. Needless to say, I didn't respond. To those who warned me, I got what I deserved. You were right. I was wrong.

I guess that means I'll have to wash my car myself. Ex-boyfriends suck.

But, Mom...

So, my mother called last night and started the conversation like this:

"Queen iii, I need to talk to you about something."

OMG!!! My mom always starts conversations like this when she's about to chastise me. So, I gritted my teeth and got ready to hear what I was in trouble for THIS time. Actually, I sighed and said something along the lines of, "WHAT, Mom?"

I never know what it is I'm going to be chastised for until the words actually come out of her mouth. Usually, I'm fairly prepared, but this time, I was not.

"I overheard you and your dad speaking on the phone the other day about one of your blog entries and I'm concerned that you may have written some ugly things about your latest ex-boyfriend."

First of all, overheard, Mom?! Sure. Sure. Second of all, doesn't latest ex-boyfriend deserve to be exposed as the scoundrel that he is?

"Well, what if he reads your blog, Queen?"

"I don't care if he does, Mom!! Good! I'd love for him to read my blog! But he won't, because he didn't when we were together and he won't now. And if he does just happen to stumble upon it, then good! He deserves it!"

"Now, Queen, you're not really using your Christian principles are you? We should only be saying words to build others up. Did your blog build him up, or tear him down?"

"But, mom!" At this point I was reverting back to my teenage years. My subtext was totally, "That is so unFAIR!!" But I was able to hold my subtext back. I resumed, "He was a horrible boyfriend and an awful friend! I only told the truth, Mom! I only told what REALLY happened!"

"What if you guys get back together and he reads your blog? Will he be hurt?"

"WHAT?! Oh my gosh, Mom, we are NOT getting back togther, and even if we were, I STILL DON'T CARE IF HE READS IT!!!"

"That's not quite the point, Queen iii. I just want you to be sure to use your words wisely. Don't forget the incident in second grade where you wrote that letter to Debra Green telling her that if she told anyone that you made an 80 on your spelling test, she would be dead meat. Your teacher, Mrs. Gonzales was very concerned about you then and I still am. I mean, what if latest ex-boyfriend tries to sue you for libel or slander?"

My subtext: "OH HOLY JEBUS!!!! SOMEONE PLEASE HELP ME BEFORE I alsjrotaihds;lfakjsdlfkjasldfjas;ldjf;asldjfalsjdfl GO CRAZY!!!!"

"Mom....it's only libel or slander if it isn't true."

"Oh, well, okay. I guess you'll be fine, but I just wanted to make sure that you are staying true to your principles."

"Thanks, Mom."

The moral of this story is, no matter how old you are, you're never too old to get in trouble with Mom. And if any of you feel like you need a little discipline, feel free to call my mother. She'll set you straight every time!

The story of my life.

Speaking of Grudge Matches...

A-dub is too funny! Her grudge match concept is intriguing to say the least. I mean, I don't even know what's going to happen!!

But along those lines, I DO have a grudge - against a group of men. Namely, white boys. Now, before you all start sending me hate mail, let me explain. I have a grudge against white boys who don't dig me - probably really I have a grudge against EVERYBODY who doesn't dig me, but the majority percentage of people who don't dig me are WHITE BOYS!! Why? I know not.

I've done some reserach. You see, as many of you know, I've been dating "online." Kind of silly, but it's kept me occupied since the tragic breakup. Anywhose - If I leave my profile - that's online dating terminology - alone and just sit and wait for people to contact me, I'll get a nice racial variety of interested suitors. But here's what happens next: the white boys will email me once or twice, but then stop - and suddenly, too; the black men hold on for dear life; and the hispanic men are fairly indifferent. Now, this is only MY experience but, what on earth could be causing this?! Before, when I went out with men in real life, I just always thought that the reason only "ethnic" men asked me out was because of my voluptuous rear-end. This was, of course, the same reason white boys DID NOT ask me out. But now, they only see a picture of me which doesn't really show off HOW ghetto this booty really is, and the black men flock and the white boys run away, run far, far away!

But, why?! I know my parents were a bit progressive in raising me and that they tried really hard to ensure that we were "colorblind" and not limited to just one culture, but I'm basically a middle-class white girl, so I should be able to pull the white boys just like the other white girls do, right? So, what is it about me that makes me so appealing to some and so revolting to others? I don't understand. Is it because my boobs aren't fake? Is it because I'm so loud and obnoxious? Is it because I look jewish? Is it because I have such a fantastic sense of humor? Is it because I'm not afraid to speak my mind...and then some?

I DON'T KNOW!!! And to tell you the truth, while it hasn't hurt my feelings before, it's kind of hurting my feelings now, which ultimately means that when I get drunk and some poor white boy is even a little bit rude to me at some bar, I'm going to freak out and try to break his jugular. I mean, it's happened before!

My white men, I have a message for you: I know I seem like too much woman, and I know my @$$ is a sizeable one, but maybe you should just try it!! You might like it! And then I won't have to break your jugular...just your heart.

to see today's entry

Scroll down below "Hero of the week award". I saved the post for later, but didn't know it would post it on the day I saved it. I guess you learn something new every day!!!

And the hero of the week award goes to: Dr. NO and A-dub!!

It sucks when you think that your friends are good people and they turn out to be shit-heads!! No one likes it. That's what happened to me this weekend. A "friend" aka, my latest ex-boyfriend, said he would help me with something that was very important to me: picking up my beloved mural from the extravagant gala location. Not only did he not do it, but he didn't pick up his phone when I called - EVER! Now, I'm a fairly understanding person, but this I cannot understand. He left me completely stranded and abandonded with 64 square feet of paint, wood and canvas.

I was desperate. DESPERATE!! I had to get aforementioned mural out of the hotel, but had no way to transport it! The people who brought it to the gala were long gone, because, I, thinking I could rely on my "friend," told them not to worry about me, I had it all taken care of!! Silly, silly queen iii.
I called everyone I knew to see if they could help me. Naturally no one was home, but just when I though all was lost, A-dub and Dr. NO came to my rescue.

After a long day's work, Dr. NO picked me up in his truck, drove to the gala location and CARRIED my mural downstairs and packed it up in his truck. He saved the day! I wanted to cry out of gratitude, but held it in, since I know Dr. NO is a no-nonsense kind of a man!

So, thank you A-dub and Dr. NO for saving the day! You really are my heros and also great friends. Thank you. I think that I might just be in love...with both of you...but not in a weird way - I swear!!!