straight up now tell me do you really wanna love me forever?

What a last couple weeks it has been, readers! Another semester of school has ended, which means I am now one step closer to becoming America's Next Top Mortician. Watch out, Clyde from Barstow!

Next, I went to Vegas. It was my first time. Had a great time. Saw some showgirls. Saw David Ruprecht, host of Supermarket Sweep. Saw some dead bodies. What more can I ask for in a two-day trip?

Ah, and then it was Christmas. Sweet sweet Christmas. Blech.

Any questions?

feminists don't have a sense of humour.

I got to go see Nellie McKay a few days ago. In spite of my embarrassment of overusing "awesome" from my last post, I must say again, that the concert was awesome. Why bother using a thesaurus, right? I have a total woman-crush on her.

Anyway, how was everyone's Thanksgiving?

nothing ever smells of roses when it rises out of ruins

I went to an IMAX movie for the first time this weekend. It was "Sea Monsters in 3D" and it was awesome. The only other 3D movie I'd ever seen was "Friday the 13th Part 3" and it just wasn't the same. I felt like such a dork for being so excited during and after having seen it. I kept saying "that was awesome." Why can't I be more eloquent? Am I really such a big dork?

it was a slap in the face how quickly i was replaced

Hello, readers!

I've been meaning to blog about some wonderful words of wisdom I heard on a documentary about grieving the loss of a child. True, these are all taken out of context, but believe me when I say that they were even more meaningful in context. There is nothing like these gems when dealing with the death of your child. I hope you can find all these words meaningful in your own lives.

"Human hearts break open. They don't break closed."

"Joy and sorrow are the scalpels God uses to open your heart."

"Depression is frozen anger."

"Grieving is the way to heal a heart that's been broken."

"Cursing is a form of prayer. It lets God know how you're feeling."

"We need to find a way to weave the words 'grieving' and 'healing' together."

"Any time we depress one feeling, we depress them all. Depression is a feeling we haven't allowed to come out."

"Stop and look at the rainbow."

"It's not easy to love, but it's the most real thing in the universe."

"Support the fertileness of your own soul."

"When you honor [your dead child's] soul, you honor your soul."

"Grieving is like having an empty teacup inside. You can't feel a teacup that's already full."

Feel free to comment on which ones would help you heal.

Your friend,

Joey

see the retard girl cross-eyed in the schoolyard

My how time flies, dear readers. I have now had my blog here for over a year, and I can proudly say I now have two regular readers. Such a time might cause me to reflect on the happenings of the last year, all their goings-on and such.

I said "might."

I don't really have a lot going on right now. Still trucking along in mortuary school. I bought a new laptop, but still use dial-up. And I still don't want to talk about the last year.

she turns and says "are you alright?" i said "i must be fine 'cause my heart's still beating."

I don't know what to say today.

if you don't have a song to sing, you're ok

I pledge to you, dear readers, that after a string of downers, this post is gonna be off the chain. Well, I don't like to overpromise, so let's just say it's gonna be wiggity-wiggity-wiggity whack. I don't like that either. You know what, fuck it. I'm not even gonna say anything. I ruined it. Just like I ruin everything. Just like I've ruined everything for the last 28 years (yes, I had a birthday for those of you who forgot.) So enough is enough.

And scene.

That, dear readers, is drama. Gaze into my eyes and see the tears I was able to produce. Take that, Juliane Moore! Take that, Nicole Kidman! Take that, Chloe Sevingy! You call that emoting, Meryl Streep?

That's what I thought.

you look so fine. i want to break your heart and give you mine.

I used to watch this cheesy show during my lunch breaks called "Starting Over." It was a show where women would move into this house in order to deal with some aspect of their life they were having trouble with. Ideally, they would work cooperatively with a therapist and the other women to reslove issues and one day graduate from the house. A big part of all their journeys involved finding the root cause of all the troubles in their lives, and though it wasn't an easy journey from there, they could at least deal with all the fallout from that root cause.

As long as I can remember, I've been a negative, fearful, angry, self-depricating person who uses humor to attempt to get people not to delve deeper, to only think I'm funny and a bit weird and move along. The one thing I am best at is pushing people away so they--and I--don't have to deal with anything on a deeper level. Not many people stick around to find out anything real.

I'm trying to be more open lately in an attempt to leave some of the bad stuff behind. I've driven myself crazy for years and I wonder what horrible things I've said to people and done to people without even realizing it--sometimes I do realize it. But you can't get better until you start to try.

like a fresh battery, i'm energized by you

Hello lucky readers. Not much going on lately. My summer semester of school ended a couple days ago, so only one more year to go (hopefully). My summer classes were pretty easy, so it's going to be tough getting back into the swing of things once the real classes start back up in a few weeks. But I am strong. I am invincible. I am one hell of a pissant.

i dropped acid on a saturday night just to see what the fuss was about

There are things that happen in life that completely destroy your chances. It's crazy how something you almost don't even remember can affect so many parts of your life. you can learn from a very early age how to not get too close and how to drive people away and how to shut down and fuck it all away. and keep trying to push it all down and not remember.

i'm gonna lock my son up in a tower till i write my whole life story on the back of his big brown eyes

You know who you are. You know what's wrong. You can't keep going on like this. You know what you need to do. You know what you need to change. You know what you have to change. This is all for you. This is all about you.


You're a watchdog, and I need you to be an intruder. It can't go on like this.

my lover, i'd rather be under than getting over you

I finally started reading the first Harry Potter book. I know. Where have I been? I must say I'm enjoying it. I don't really like reading a book after I've seen the movie version though, because then you just end up relying on the imagination of the movie makers instead of your own. But I like it anyway.

you'll never gain weight from a doughnut hole

I really only wanted to post an entry so that I could use the doughnut hole line. Unfortunately the last few days have slipped by with little to no accomplishment; thereby, I have little to discuss. Should I just offer up a word or two about Kevin O'Connor from PBS' "This Old House"? No? Well, ok. I was only trying to open up a discussion.

like Prince said you're a sexy mother--

Oh readers, where do I begin?

My sister's wedding went pretty well. I was making a misery of myself in the beginning of the reception, but then started to get caught up in the moment and got myself drunk on Crown and Coke and danced--to be more specific, I ruled the dance floor (wasn't able to get myself laid though.) Nearly a week later, I am still in a bit of pain. A John Travolta-style knee slide may look cool, but it's really not good for the joints. But your only sister doesn't get married every day, right? It was great to get to share that time with her just acting crazy. Being a stick-in-the-mud doesn't afford me that many opportunities to behave so. I'm sorry more people weren't able to see it.

So readers, now it is your turn to share some wild and crazy recent experiences. It's as easy as 1-2-3! Just click on the comments and tell us all something new and interesting about yourself.

(And Christoph, you know you've always been my favorite. I guess it's your sweet sweet face.)

don't bother. i won't die of deception.

Sometimes I think my blog serves as nothing more than evidence of my moodiness. I'm just glad that it's interesting enough to keep the three of you coming back for more.

one two three four tell me that you love me more

A mouring dove hatched a couple of eggs on my balcony and the babies flew away today. (I'm not being metaphorical. It's actually just a statement.)

My sister is getting married in a few days. I never understood why people cry at weddings, but I tear up when I think about it. My sister is obviously the person I've spent the most time with in my life. We were always close, and even though we have been talking more lately than we have in a few years, it just seems like some sort of loss to know she's going to be married. Married people are different. She won't have the same last name anymore. She'll be part of her own newly-defined family. Once you're married, your family is another set of people. You get older, you have kids, you start to call your family the people who live under your roof. Except I get older, and I am more alone all the time. I'll never have that "family." I'm a sad, weird, slightly-pathetic introvert who can't even say any of this stuff out loud. My favorite friend is half-way across the world and just got engaged. The best friend I have in the city doesn't need me nearly as much as I need him. And I try to make new friends or date and most of the time can't figure out exactly which category someone is trying to fit me into, though usually it is neither. And the worst part is that I don't blame them. So welcome to the pity party-boat. Get off while you still can.

i'm half alive but i feel mostly dead.

Do you sense it, dear readers? It's a beautiful summer day outside and I have a brand-new reader. Cookies and punch! Can everyone give Ms. New Reader a nice warm welcome? You may remember her from one of my first-ever posts as a wonderful character that goes by the likes of Nurse Kill. In case you don't remember the particular post, let me refresh your memory as so. I had a little problem with obsessing over phrases that might sound more demented coming from a nurse with her particular last name, par example: "Hello, Little Jimmy. My name is Nurse Kill. Your mommy was very sick when she came into the hospital." I'll let you finish that conversation in your own heads, but it doesn't bode well for Little Jimmy.

I'm freezing, I'm starving, I'm bleeding to death. Everything's fine.

Dear readers, I do not wish to alert you, but your beloved blogger has fallen ill. Some say it's just a mild summer cold, but in this age of tuberculosis and smallpox, one cannot be too careful!

My classes start back on Wednesday. Nothing too difficult this summer--just a drole computer class and sociology. I've been looking for a proctor to take the classes for me, but nothing yet. The search continues.

Who you callin' a cootie queen, you lint licker? (my favorite chewing gum commercial)

Take care, readers! Until next time, be safe, be mobile, and--most of all--be able!

on the surface simplicity

Could everyone who reads this please make me one promise: see Bjork live. Whether you like her or not. I realize she doesn't tour very often, so even if you have to go to Iceland and knock on her door and hand her a check and ask her to sing a little ditty for you, do so. Of course, I completely adore her, so you may not care about my opinion. But just listen to this objective bystander: "Bjork is amazing. Long live Bjork." See. I told you.

they say I'm plump but I throw up all the time

I finished my second semester of my return to school a couple days ago. I'm on vacation from work next week, and I am doing my job shadowing thing with an embalmer. I can't wait. And then I'm going to see Bjork in Chicago (she's performing in Chicago, not the musical Chicago--though wouldn't that be fun?). She's pretty much my favorite person in the whole world, so obviously, more excitement. Let the happiness ensue!

the sky was made of amethyst and the stars look just like little fish

I was reading a story in Augusten Burroughs' Magical Thinking today. It's a wonderful little story where he's been dating someone for a few weeks and has quickly fallen in love but is obsessed with trying to figure out how the other guy feels about him. And there's this really wonderful line or two: "I don't want to know what my feelings are until I know what his are. Somehow I know this can't be right." I hate sounding like one of those people who reads something or hears something and suddenly thinks THAT'S SO ME but it happened. Everybody probably feels that way though. Just let me say, this once, that I feel it more. Why be so afraid of feelings and even hide them and suppress them because of insecurity? (As I reread that sentence, suddenly it seems like an okay excuse...) What if the other person is doing the same thing? Are we all equally crazy?

hair's too long and in your eyes, your lips a perfect suck-me size

Not a very productive day today. But I got up at 9:00 and gave myself a haircut. I guess that can be of note. Did some painting. Staved off my Mountain Dew craving. What more do you want from me?


There is nothing to fear but fear itself. But it can really get you, so watch out.

that i would be good even if I gain 10 pounds

I have to find a mortuary to do some observations in. Before I take any real mortuary classes, apparently I'm supposed to find out if I'm going to pass out or stab myself with dirty needles and have someone "official" swear that in their professional opinion, i won't.

On a lighter note, this semester is almost over and I've done pretty well, considering my life of debauchery and constant rutting.

these stories don't mean anything if I've got no one to tell them to

I haven't had a Mountain Dew in almost 2 days. I would stay away from me if I were you.

averageeverydaysanepsychosupergoddess

An Easter play, in one act.

God: Hey, Joey!
Joey, surprised: Oh, hi God. I didn't see you there.
God: No problem.
Joey: So what's up?
God: Not too much. Just thought I'd check in.
Joey: Thanks.
God: You know, you're going to be okay someday.
Joey: When? When I'm dead?
God, chuckling: Well, no, not then...
Joey: Hey, that's not funny. (Pauses) Well, it sorta is. So God has a sense of humor.
God: Where do you think you got it from? Nice ass, by the way.

i said brrrr! it's cold in here

there must be some clovers in the atmosphere.

nothing to write...

do you love your guns? god? government? Fuck you.

Some of you, dear readers, may have noticed that I use different song lyrics for the titles of my entries. Are there any you'd like to see here? An artist or song you'd like to promote? My blog reaches millions of readers. This is your chance to get the word out!

falling in love again, never wanted to. what am i to do? i can't help it.

What do you wear to meet a nudist?

I'm feeling a bit better now that I did when I wrote here a few days ago.

Nothing really new to report.

i wash the windows outside in hopes that the glare will bring you around

I haven't done any paintings in quite a while. I started drawing on a canvas a couple days ago, so we'll see if anything turns up. I think it's a drawing of my ex, even though it wasn't intended to be. I guess it doesn't have to be him. We've been attempting a friendship after not speaking for a year and a half after we broke up. Still not sure where's that's going to go. It's hard to forget some things, but when you loved someone that much, those things you loved are still there. That's hard to admit. It was nice sometimes when we weren't talking because I could pretend he was a piece of shit, but talking to him reminds me that he's not.

i got pills that are blue i got pills that are red i got pills that will make me forget what i said

I've wanted a massage for several months now but apparently they all come with hand jobs, etc. now. I'm not going to pay for a handjob, etc.

We need another celebrity death to focus on.

i opened up my wrist and nobody knows by name

I'm in no mood to be funny today. Maybe I will be anyway. I've just been frustrated lately with everything and frustrated for not getting the things in life I want and for not even trying to get the things I want. I'm a fucking mess and it never gets any different no matter the times I tell myself it is or it will. there's just a series of people who don't understand and who think they do and then run away when they figure out the truths. and i don't really understand either. i just pretend to have control. i make things up. i could eat a thousand acres of ice cream and nothing will get any different. i'll just get fatter. and people don't even pretend anymore.

anyway, Rickie Lee Jones has an amazing new album called "Sermon on Exposition Blvd." go buy it.

the only one who could ever groove me was the son of a preacher man

I touched an ovary today. Can anyone top that?

what the fuck is ladylike if ladies like to do what the fuck they like?

I sit here hoping the words will come pouring out, brilliantly, perhaps even breathtakingly. It always seems to turn out, though, that in hiding what I really want to go on and on about, nothing else comes out. But I'm too reserved to talk about what I don't want to put out there for the several people who read this. Or the several other people who might read this but probably never will.

Here's something: I filled out my renewal FAFSA for school next year, and apparently I'm supposed to contribute over $9000.00 for myself. So in other words, I should be self-sufficient enough to not need the goverment. But people who don't work get money thrown at them. At least some of them. I'm glad there is help out there for people who truly need it; I just wish I could be one of those people sometimes.

Enough whining. I'm tired of people whining. I'm tired of myself whining. I think I need to get away from myself for a couple days. I can create a character and play the role. Maybe I'll like it better than the real me.

wargasm, wargasm 1-2-3, tie a yellow ribbon 'round the amputee

Do you, dear readers, know the pressure I place on myself to keep you coming back?

I've been eating tainted peanut butter. Yes, I have a 2111 on my lid. Don't panic, faithful reader. I feel fine. After a foot of snow, did ConAgra Foods really think a nasty case of salmonella would keep me down? I feel like standing on a table yelling Sally Field-ish chants. I feel that good.

I've cut back on work hours again, so this post is also a call to action. I need money.

spinning spinning before i can recall all the unknown chemicals control the cycle

I finally started my homework that I should've started days ago. Finished a lab report on T-streaking, which sounds like something i'd like to do, but really have no interest in. I do have a lab buddy, though, whose name alone makes class exciting. She is a nursing student with the last name of Kill, which of course will make her Nurse Kill. I can sit for hours (with nothing better to do) imagining "Nurse Kill" being used in sentences in a clinical setting. In an abortion clinic: "Nurse Kill will be right with you." In the children's ward of a hospital: "Nurse Kill will be right with you." There are minor variations on the actual sentence; I mainly just come up with new situations, as you can read for yourself. "Nurse Kill will be assisting with your surgery today." "Hi, I'm Nurse Kill. Unfortunately your niece didn't make it through the night."

Well, it's late, and I still have to read about cell metabolism. As if I will really be able to concentrate now that I've gotten started on Nurse Kill dialogues again.

my bologna has a first name

A few days ago, I made myself a nice tator tot casserole. My stomach didn't think it was nice though. I spent all night very violently expelling it. It still hurts to take deep breaths. Apparently, my stomach thinks it's too good for the tot-erole. I guess you really can become less white trash-y. I've come a long way since the spam of my youth.