random thoughtlings...

i'm sitting in a hotel room on a tuesday morning. don't ask questions from this point forward.

i'm really glad my name isn't fergie. granted people would probably like me more, talk about me more and ask me more often if i was related to fergie "fergilicious" ferguson and i would coyly respond, "only by first names." but i just don't think that going though life as a fergie would be that great. it's like when you meet 13 year old girls named selena, you don't immediately think "well my goodness, aren't you going to be a successful mexican-american! i'm ready to see where you are going in life!" no no, you hand them make-up remover, a razor and birth control and you start thinking about jennifer lopez in glitter and spandex. i can just imagine, with all of the babies being born now and all of these celebs naming themselves and their offspring utterly retarded, yet trendy names, what we are going to be hearing on the playground in a couple of years. "apple, orange, suri, moon river, shiloh, hannah montana, branson missouri" and yes, "fergie"--i haven't confirmed this fact but I bet there have been approximately 20.2 little girls born in the past 5 years that have been named fergie. and god bless them all.

you know what i like best about hotel rooms? you can turn the air as cold as you want, take the longest shower known to all mankind, tun all of the lights on and leave them and the tv going for 8 hours and your hotel bill never changes. it's like yeah i paid $54.99 to stay at the days inn, but i used $100 worth of electricity, water and continental breakfast. (and by continental breakfast i mean that i stole the two loaves of bread that were suppose to be toast.)

bret michaels. not attractive. not taleted. but i'm surprisingly sad that there will be no rock of love 3. i think that they should do a love reality show for gary bussey. that guy is f-uped. "crazy on you"--that's what it should be called. just look at this man, does he not scream--i need love???  maybe it should be called "narc of love" by the look of that one eye thats still open, it looks like drugs never left the picture.

i really like the word fugly. you know the words pretty and ugly can mean a range of different things to different people. kind of like that "one man's trash is another man's treasure" philosophy. what i think is pretty, you may find horrendous and vice verse. but fugly? that's universal. if something's fugly--it's fugly worldwide. fugly surpasses all language barriers; fugly pierces the heart.

don't go fugly on me,

k

 I think I'm getting taller.

Not like an adult, more like a monster. I haven't measured this curiosity by ruler, but by toliets. Lately I've felt extremely large next to every toliet I've stood over. (Don't get me wrong--I still sit when I pee, I stand over the toliet solely because it looks so tiny) I'll take one look at a toliet and I feel like I'm in a pre-school bathroom. Which then makes me think I might be in a pre-school bathroom. So I always double check wherever I am and then I'm always a bit dissappointed that I'm not in a pre-k classroom. Even port-a-potties are a bit cramped--I used to enjoy them, now I just feel large and rushed.

My dad got me a webcam. So now I can go on with my dreams of being an internet beauty--except change out the "bea" with "n" and the "ty" with "die. Thanks dad--helping me live the dream one megapixel at a time. I'm also available for livechat, if you're interested. And I guess on that note, so is my dad.

I went to the doctor on Sunday because something was rotting inside of my throat. The male nurse while doing the check up routine checked my heart rate he told me that is was racing and suggested that it might be the sudafed that I was on. I in turn suggested crystal meth. That one was hard to laugh off.

I also had to get a shot in my bottom. The little indian doctor describe the shot as "bring out the big gun." I literally thought it was going to be a big gun--turns out it was medically metaphorical for a lot of medicene going into one large vein in my ass. I wasn't exactly sure of what I was suppose to do with my pants when he said that it would be on my butt. But when he giggled I realized that I might have dropped them a little far.

So I've come to the conclusion that they should really set up charts for things like that. I don't care what the inside of my knee looks like, I want to know what the appropriate length of butt check is needed for a shot. So I've drawn one out:

that's all.

So I guess everyone should know: me and xanga (or billy, as i like to call him) have been exclusive for 894 days now and he asked me....to go premium. It was precious really how he asked, he got down on one knee and opened up his laptop and there on that beautiful wide screen were those three pretty words every girl wants to hear: go premium here.

yeah right xanga losers, i'm not going premium. Instead I rented "An inconvient truth" by Al Gore AND I adopted a puppy AND I gave just 17 cents a day to an orphanage in China. That's what I did with my $25 dollars Xanga.

Just kidding, I totally went premium.

I have a shitty job. Most people when they hear this news tell me to quit. To just get up and walk right out. When I told JoJo, the young recording artist, she sang to me "Get out, right now!" But you see my friends, and young JoJo, I don't want to leave necessarily, I want to complain. And I want you to listen. I don't believe in the mentality of shit or get off the pot, I believe in the mentality of stay on the pot and whine about it.

An old lady came in the other day and she was returning a skirt that was too small for her grandma goodies. Without an introduction this lady asked me to guess her age. I decided that "half past death"wasn't very polite, so i said 80. Turns out she was 85. I asked her why her skirt didn't fit because it was an XL and this lady was a glass of milk away from 120 pounds. And then she lifted up her shirt....and I understood for the first time why life ends very shortly after 80 long years. She showed me her mid-section that had long ago devoured her stomach. She looked up at me and said: "You have a waistline you see?" "Oh yes, ma'am I sure do" I so innocently replied. "Well, not for long hahaha..." As she scoffed, and walked/shuffled away into her fuzzy world of crossword puzzles and meal on wheels.

I'm not sure what I've done karma, but I get it already. Stop with the old ladies, seriously.

it's been a while, xang. I might have to stretch for a bit.

People have been asking me lately what i'm gonna do for the rest of my life. At first it caught me off guard, but now I realize that yes, of course I went through four years of college and now i know exactly what I want to do for the rest of my life immediately after I graduated with a liberal arts degree in economics from a small private chrisitan college.

Oh life. How simple you are.