It's enough to make you sick

I was just watching this re-run of Fear Factor, the one where this girl has to down a glass of scorpian martini and eat the scorpian carcus at the bottom. She managed to get the liquid down, but gagged on the scorpian and ended up throwing up.

"I tried," she told her partner who was also her boyfriend. "I tried."

"I know, I know you did," he replied. Then he kissed her. On the mouth. Right after she'd barfed up scorpian guts.

Sometimes, when you have the right boyfriend, it's great to have a boyfriend. Like Chris. I know he would kiss me even if I'd just thrown up.

My first boyfriend, he showed up on my porch with roses and asked me out literally the night after I'd thrown up in the middle of a restaurant. He told me even when I was ralphing into the plastic bag my hair still smelled good. I really can't hold alcohol.

I guess I've been lucky like that, to mostly have been surrounded by good people.

Living in fear

As a person living in this particular county in this particular state with only a fuzzy NBC station to watch on television, I am beginning to think that the whole world is crawling with sex offenders.

Punked

Meet Rhys. He's my Welsch co-worker from Illinois. Blonde, on the short side, cute as can be. Pothead in sharp slacks and a tie. All day he's been chain smoking cigarettes and pacing the office in anticipation.

Johnny Lang is supposed to call him. He's interviewing Johnny Lang at 3 p.m. Johnny Lang is a god with a guitar and endless inspiration to Rhys who confessed to almost peeing his pants when he found out that in addition to covering Johnny Lang in concert, he would get to interview Johnny Lang beforehand.

Four car accident? Helicopter crash? Somebody else is gonna have to be cops reporter cause Johnny Lang is gonna call. Rhys ain't leaving the office.

He spent lunch break meticulously penning a list of questions, just in case he got so nervous his brain froze during the interview.

Rhys' phone rings and Rhys, mid-pace by the water cooler goes scrambling for it like a dog after a frisbee. I can't hear what he's saying, but the tone is nervous but official. The tip of his nose is turning red with pleasure.

"....yeah, yeah that's cool. Hey man, I was at one of your concerts last April and it was really cool...oh yeah. heh, heh, heh."

Rhys is really blushing now.

Then from around the corner comes Lucas, the photo intern, pointing and laughing.

"Man, you're a jerk!" Rhys exclaims. "Asshole."

Lucas is holding his cell phone and laughing. "Hey man, i was at one of your concers last April and it was really cool...," he mimicks. "Rhys you're a fucking tool."

Rhys is laughing too now. "That's what he told me on the phone. I was all talking about the concert when all of a sudden Johnny Lang is calling me a tool. I was like, oh man, if Johnny Lang called me a tool I'm just gonna have to laugh it off."

Johnny Lang's publicist called later. Johnny postponed the interview until the following week.

dumpy

boy, i've been neglecting this blog again. i feel down in the dumps a lot since moving here. not my normal bitchy/complain-y down in the dumps either. i don't bother dressing up for things, i just don't put much effort into anything anymore it seems and it's a cycle. the worse i feel the less i do, and he less i do the worse i feel.

anyway, i've taken haven here. for now anyway. who knows, one day i might want to spend more time here again.