Monday, February 25, 2013

$64??? Really???

Let me see. My blog. And the song in my head right now is Thriftshop. I’m gonna post a blog, got a lotta thoughts goin’ through my noggin…”

It’s a stretch, but I’m still out of Adderall.

So. Here goes. My lease is up on my 603 square foot, curry scented apartment. And my rent is going up $64! They said it would go up like $20, but $64? Do you know what I could do with $64? I could buy like 60 things at the Dollar Store (gotta remember tax), two tanks of gas, like 12 pay-per-view sexy time movies if I watched them, 27 or so Crayola hair extension sets from WalMart, maybe 55 songs on iTunes, 15 bags of 6 ounce pistachio packets on sale at WalMart for $3.98, 100 small Reeses Peanut Butter cups, 130 cucumbers at Sprouts…I could go on if you’d like. $64! That’s a lot of dang money. My apartment hasn’t gotten bigger, it still stinks, I don’t have roaches…THANK GOD…people still park where they’re not supposed to while I pay for parking. I’m gonna start leaving notes n the cars because it’s the same dang cars in the same dang spots. And either they are too stupid to know that the lines on the space mean Don’t park here because it’s the ramp for wheelchairs, OR they’re just too damn lazy to walk an extra 30 feet. I’m gonna make a video of the distance I walk to get to the spots I pay for versus the illegal spots I could park in so you can see why it ticks me off as much as it does. Maybe tomorrow when it’s not freezing outside.

My lesbian card was revoked this week. Sallye Wilton is a lawyer lady who said that I am no longer part of the club because I didn’t go to the Pink concert. I tried to explain to Sallye that I had committed to being the DJ at a cheer banquet that night to make money for things such as my $64/month rent increase. But apparently rich lawyer folks don’t care about my excuses. I don’t have tickets for Kelly Clarkson, either. So what’s gonna happen now that I no longer have a lesbian card to be revoked? I guess we will see.

Does Half Price Books sell the L-Word and it’s always just sold out? Or do they not offer it? I’ve looked and not found it. While I left L-Word-less, I did get some new books. The Portia Di Rossi eating disorder book, Skinny Bitch, Jillian Michaels, and a book called Nasty People that’s supposed to help me learn to deal with the invalidators in my life.

Has anyone ever heard of a snoring cat? Just wondering. 

The left side of the bottom of my nose itches. That means my time of the month is upon me. So watch out, people. A PMSing me is on the loose. Bah humbug.

The MS walk is this Saturday. Apparently I tug at ZERO heartstrings for most. I tried and I failed. At least a few people care enough to contribute and to you guys, I appreciate it.

Shower time. Have a great night. 

Wednesday, February 20, 2013

Don't make me beg...

I feel pretty dumb right now. All these people stalk my pages and if everyone would put in like $.50, I’d have a crap load of money raised. So, if you have a little bit of extra fundage in the bank and want to help an amazing cause, please check out my donation page and contribute. PULEEZE!!!!!

I’m doing this walk because a good friend of mine’s ex-partner has MS. Together they have a little boy who is absolutely awesome. It sucks that he has to see his mom in the hospital for days at a time. He’s so polite and well rounded and fun to be around. I just want to do my part…which means I need your help…to maybe find a breakthrough in treatment.

With that being said, here’s the link one more time. Just in case you missed it before.

And again. Third time is a charm.

I know that there are some rich people on the Facebook. I also know that rich people don’t get rich by spending money on just whatever, but come on. Please. Here’s a pic of the kiddo I was talking about. I really want this fundraising effort to be successful because he deserves to see his mom feeling good and not in the hospital. You can make it happen. So let’s go.

So I’m DJing a banquet on Friday, so I was putting my music together tonight. There are a couple of must play songs. Macklemore “Thrift Shop” and and Britney “Scream & Shout.” Have you ever listened to these songs and realized how much cussin’ there is? And since the event on Friday is for kids, I needed super clean edits. So I did them myself. They have been checked and double checked and I think I’m good. Look at me going above and beyond to try and get this thing going full speed. Why I’m being a huge link whore, I will just go ahead and give you my DJ email address in case you want to hire me.

And if you accidentally spell my name the way that most do, I also have Website coming soon.

I miss my singing fish. You know the one that had the flapping tail and would sing Mambo #5? I also with I had kept my puppet Pound Puppy. And Pocket Rocker. Did anyone else have a Pocket Rocker? With the Tiffany tape to play in it? Does this make me old?

There is nothing attractive about Constantine Maroulis. And I really don’t like Joel McHale. I’ve got my TV on in the background and just saw them on it. Ick. I wish everyone could get paid for wearing skinny suits and saying unfunny stuff. He’s not good. But I’m learning in life that untalented people somehow get fired up. Why is it that the crappiest of employees never get fired? Like if Joel McHale got hired to be the face of E!, I wouldn’t be surprised. At all. I would say that he had to sleep with the right person to get there, but it wouldn’t shock me. One bit.

Hangnails hurt. I’ve googled treating them and I’ve tried what the google recommends, but they’re still there!!! I might need to start putting jalapeno juice on my fingers so I leave them alone. I have weird habits when I think. I stick my tongue out all the dang time. That’s why my lips are chapped so much. I make faces that I cannot explain. I need a self-shocking collar to shock myself out of the dumb habits I’ve formed. I need to invent the mind reading shock collar. Yes! Don’t steal my idea, people.

Ouch I have cramps. Stupid PMS. If you’ve never had the PMS, I equate it to someone tying a string around my uterus and ovaries and other innards and then tying the other end to their douch-mobile and then popping the clutch over and over. I’m a firm believer that gay people are born this way, so why doesn’t God take the fact that our reproductive systems might be completely useless and give us the option when we’re 21 years old of either keeping them or losing them when we pee one day.

Anyway, my brain is literally exhausted. I see spots when I look up. Not black spots. Colored ones. Like laser beams. It would probably be cool if I did drugs or something, but I don’t, so it’s just weird. Anyway, goodnight errybody. And thank you again for your help with the MS walk.

Tuesday, February 19, 2013

Decision time...

I’m writing this post Insanity Fit Test. I’m starting over. I lost momentum when I got that awful sick thing I had and now I have to get it back. This girl is tired of being the fat kid. The time to change that is now.

I took an 8-hour nap yesterday. Today was less than an hour. Needless to say I got a lot more done today than yesterday. I did laundry and scrubbed my apartment and went grocery shopping and made a victory mix for my friend Natalie’s dodgeball tournament. I made some iPhone cases using Kellie’s link on Vistaprint and took out the trash. Oh…speaking of that…

I put my trash outside of my front door while I got my shoes on and got the bathroom trash together. I swear I just set it outside. So when I went out to take it out to the dumpster, it was GONE!!! I know it was likely someone trying to be nice and carrying it out for me. But my brain can’t just let that be. It goes into all kinds of theories. Like what if a homeless person came and took it and is not making meals out of my old out of date stuff? What if the government thinks I’m a Russian spy and they took my trash to try and get clues? What if my neighbor is stalking me and wanted to dig through my trash to find out more about me, thus gaining info on what I do and where I go so they can more efficiently stalk me? What if I’m losing my mind and I never really had that bag of trash? The possibilities are endless and I don’t know what to make of it.

I’ve told you about the journal I’ve been writing in lately. It’s getting into so much of the BS that people in my world are trying to push into my life. I refuse them that power as much as I can. There is one thing I’m struggling with, though. How much do I let the support that some people offer to one of the most horrible people I’ve ever encountered affect my relationship with them? I have transcribed conversations with this person so that when she comes out with a blatant lie of how things went down, I can show everyone otherwise. She has tried to tell me that I’m a bad, hypocritical person who should never be allowed to see her kids anymore and I am dumbfounded. How is someone’s sense of reality as shot as hers? And how come people don’t see it? I don’t question my decision to write this person off. I don’t need anyone in my life who tells me how much they love me and care about me one day and then calls me an effing B the next day telling me to “Try them.” Really? Are we not grown ass women? This person would not answer the phone when I tried calling to actually converse with them about all of this crap. Texts and Facebook threats suited her more than a conversation where words actually came out of one mouth and into the others ears. And reading the texts and messages isn’t easy when it’s all one long run on sentence with no caps or punctuation. I need to make the decision that I’m doing what’s right for me and hope that others come around and see that this person is doing nothing but using them to continue freeloading through life.

Can you tell I’m frustrated with this situation? It’s draining me and I’m sick of it. So it’s time to let go.

Tony Robbins is teaching me the significance of making a decision so I feel better equipped to make one. Thanks, Tony. And Dr. Phil. And Oprah. And Ellen. And, of course, Kellie Rasberry. 

Monday, February 11, 2013

I Can't Control My Eyebrow

I’m writing this with the Bachelor on to my left, the washer and dryer behind me, and a cough that won’t stinking stop. Ahhhhh!!! At least Alicia Keys is still hot. 

1.     “I can’t control my eyebrow.” – Tierra

Is it a coincidence that there is a reindeer named Cupid and that the Valentine’s Day guy is also named cupid? Does Santa have a monopoly on the holiday character business? Is Cupid overworked and underpaid? I feel bad for Cupid. On the upside if Cupid the Reindeer is also the bow and arrow shooting guy, he’s pretty lucky to have an opposable thumb, right?

I drive a Mazda CX-5. Yesterday I go to start my car and it did nothing. It’s a push button start, so I thought maybe the battery died in the remote. But it’s supposed to have some backup thing in it where if you touch it to the button, the car will still start. That didn’t happen. So what in the crap is wrong with it? I was in too awful of a mood to go get it fixed today, so I will try again tomorrow.

I’ve not been feeling great lately. So Walgreens has been my saving grace. It’s a drug store, right? So when I go in there to buy medicine, as Walgreens is so conveniently there for me to do, why do I always get stuck behind the man who does his grocery shopping at Walgreens and all of the sudden has the need to sign up for the Walgreens card? I have stood there literally gagging on my coughing that I’m holding in while dumb man in front of me tries to remember his stupid cell number or email address or whatever it is. So irritating! And the cashier calls out “IC3” which I assume means that there are a lot of people in line and help is needed, but it never happens quickly? I don’t get it. Walgreens saves my life and drives me insane all at the same time.

My lips hurt. I will not be walking over to Walgreens for lip stuff. I ran out of patience at WalMart earlier. I have no more to give. That is all for now. 

Thursday, February 7, 2013

It's not too late to apologize Justin Bieber or Kelly Clarkson

I have some concerns I would like to express to celebrities who don’t seem to appreciate all that I have done for their career.

Dear Justin Bieber-I remember when you were just a little guy who couldn’t even afford to buy your own hat. So J-Si bought one for you. You came into our studio to perform after a lot of convincing from your record rep. Your mom was with you and Scooter was just as shy as you. You had this high pitched voice and played a right handed guitar backwards. So cute. Not too long after that I booked you to come in and mentor our Rock Camp kids and then again to come perform on the Kidd’s Kids trip. I feel like I have done my part to put at least an extra hundred dollars in your pocket, so why wasn’t I in the movie? Or at least thanked in the credits? It’s like you don’t even care, Justin, and that hurts my heart. I don’t understand how you credit other shows in Never Say Never and not KKITM. More specifically ME. I was the one who was sitting on Kidd’s couch saying “hey. Manny says we need to give this kid a listen. He’s super talented and plays his own instruments. Can we give him a try?’ Kidd agreed and in you came, but I think you’ve forgotten about us. Which I don’t appreciate. So if there’s a sequel to Never Say Never, I will accept the role as radio producer who pushed you into success and you reward with a brand new car or maybe just some Biebs merch. So just let me know, Justin. I will be waiting.

Dear Kelly Clarkson- I know you know that I love you. I have sat there in front of you while you read a love letter I wrote you. You listen to the show. We know some of the same people or at least I know people who know people who know relatives of yours. So why won’t you give in and just acknowledge my love and reject me already? Like just say “Shanon, I know you have loved me for over a decade. I know you walked all the way up to the street level of your studio to get me and walked me down to meet Donny Osmond. That was a great day, Shanon. And I will never forget it.” I was the one with the poster board sign at your concert that one time and I put my cell phone number on it so you could call me. I had a backstage pass to that concert, but I was too nervous to come back and see you. So I gave it to another fan and handed her my business card to give you so you could have my contact info handy. I never heard from you. Which is OK because you are super busy a lot of times. But I know you have days off. Like Thanksgiving and Christmas. I have those days off, too, and we could talk on the phone a lot those days. So just give me a call, Kelly. I promise I can put my feelings aside and accept that you’re with that bearded guy and support that relationship until you decide to come clean and admit your true feelings. I love you, Kelly Clarkson. Thank you for being you. And for picking up the stray puppies that I don’t pick up because I live in a 600 square foot apartment and the pet deposit for dogs is too expensive. But you have a lot of space and money for pet deposits, so thank you for using those resources to rescue the puppies.

That’s really all I have to say for now. I know there are some that we had the chance to break but lost out on, so I can’t really say much to them. So Lady Gaga and Katy Perry…I apologize for not being the producer to push your career in the right direction. I’m happy you made it in spite of the fact that we did not introduce you to the world. Good job on that. I hope you can forgive us for not making you famous like we did Justin Bieber and Kelly Clarkson and thank me in your books or big screen documentaries. I don’t want to be part of the Lifetime documentaries unless I will get paid  for each time it plays from here on out. Then I would be willing to co-star in your Lifetime documentary. Thank you Katy Perry and Lafdy Gaga.