Fights, fights, and fun.

This weekend has been rather exciting on all fronts. The weekend began, for me, with a nap. I was awakened by my loving father, who, after gently pulling me from my slumber, slipped me $100. He said it was for gas, lunch, dinner, whatever I needed it for. That doesn't happen to me anymore. Since I have a somewhat stable income I usually don't get any money from my parents, so this was a pretty fantastic start to my weekend (and I only spent $15 this weekend for dinner at CPK before the dance).
After waking up, I took a shower and headed over to Lindsey's to get ready for homecoming. We got all pretty, took LOTS of pictures (yes, we took some mirror pictures too. We are horrible at taking mirror pictures by the way...)

More later.

Stop! Before you speak.

So I was at Rite-Aid tonight, purchasing goodies for my beloved cookie boy. After I had collected a large bagful of king sized candy bars and other fun things, I proceeded to the check out station--station 5. There were two checker-outers there, and as I walked up one of them (we'll call her Sandy) was beginning to talk to the other (we'll call her Ginny). The whole conversation went something like this:

Sandy: Hey, have you seen the movie Click? If you haven't you should come watch it with me and my friends. My friends and I just rented a bunch of movies and Click is one of them. I haven't seen it yet but it looked pretty good. Have you seen it?
^^before I continue I want to point out how wordy that was. Keep in mind that Ginny hasn't said a single word yet.
Ginny: No.
Sandy: Oh yeah, you should totally come watch it with us. We also rented (insert bad movie title here), (insert other bad movie title here), and Final Destination 3.
^As she said the last part she was scanning my items.
Me: Oh, have you seen Final Destination 3?
^At this moment I am preparing to say exactly what I thought about the movie Final Destination 3. Luckily I gave myself a minute before speaking...
Sandy: Yes! It's such a great movie.
^I paused while staring at my wallet. I could not believe she thought that was a great movie. It was quite possibly the worst movie I have ever seen. Ever.
Ginny: I never saw it. I only saw the second one and it was really really good.
^I had heard that the second one was horrible too. Go figure.
Sandy: I never saw the second one. The first one was so good I was afraid the second would kill it. But then I saw the third, and it was amazing.
Me: I couldn't handle the third one. Especially the tanning salon scene... I had to walk out.
Sandy: Yeah that part was crazy. So well done though...
^No, it was not well done.
Me: Well have a fun time with your movie night!
Sandy: Thanks!
Ginny: Have a great night!!

These two talked with monotone voices until they said "Thanks!" and "Have a great night!!" They really were something else. I'm glad I didn't insult them...

even though they have horrible taste in movies.

I feel fizzy and fuzzy and fine

For some reason that phrase has stuck with me for several years. I think I read it in a magazine once-- it just sounded so wonderful to me. And I do actually feel quite fantastic today. I feel accomplished: we finished our homecoming routine today in practice and I am finally getting the hang of the senior dance segment; I finished ALL of my homework and organized three binders tonight; and I cooked dinner tonight!

I think John Mayer was my inspiration. I was listening to his new CD while I did everything on my list of today's accomplishments (except during practice, although I had one of his songs stuck in my head, so it still counts).

I'm feeling pretty okay about my 'romantic' situation at the moment as well. I discovered that that might be exactly what I need-- a bit of romance. Romance has never been high on my list of qualifications but I'm thinking it should be (John Mayer, again, is an influence).

So, to recap this blog real quick: John Mayer is my muse.

And on the 7th day (s)He rested.

I have decided that today, Sunday, I am actually going to rest. Every Sunday I find massive amounts of things to do to get things done and keep me busy. Well I don't want to be busy today. Today I am going to rest.

I really have nothing to say today. I'm sort of in an apathetic limbo-- I can't find the energy to care about what I should care about. Feel free to psychoanalyze me... if you have the credentials.

Yep. I'm done.

Frazzled.

"Frazzle" is officially my favorite word today. I love it. It sounds like "dazzle" which was my favorite word like, forever ago.

So there are about ten other things I should be doing right now (actually, only two... wait no, three), but my attention span today has been zero, so I don't feel too inclined to do them. I've been really anxious all day. Like jumpy kind of anxious. Like the anxious where you can't sit still. Like the anxious where you yell across classrooms, failing to acknowledge the fact that the teacher is talking to you and telling you to get out your homework. That kind of anxious. Could be because I have a million and one things to do in the next week and a half. Could be because I had lemonade today instead of iced tea. Whatever it is, it's making me anxious.

Plus, I had a really weird dream last night that seems like it would be easy enough to interpret, but the various people I've told (only three) have all given me different responses. What could it mean? I would post it here but it includes two guys whose identities must remain secret. So yeah, that's my story. I have to go to practice soon (which I'm actually not dreading), then class (which I dread on a weekly basis... twice on a weekly basis in fact), then open mic night (which I'm excited about), then home to shower/clean my room/write my restaurant review/do cookie boy stuff.

Busy night? I think so. Busy-ness makes me...


frazzled.

Disappointed times a thousand.

So I just took the "Odds of Marriage" quiz. Would you like to know what my odds of getting married are? 24%. TWENTY-FOUR PER-FREAKIN-CENT. I am so disheartened. Take the test, I hope you have better luck than me.

So in a few years from now when I am alone at all of your wedding receptions, sitting at a table (alone), eating excessive amounts of cake (alone), not dancing with anyone (because I'm alone), you won't be surprised because you will have known since October 17, 2006 that Lacey only has a 24% chance of getting married.

It's long but totally worthwhile. Maybe...

For today's blog I'm going to do it in a minute-by-minute format. Except not actually minute-by-minute since there are a lot of minutes in the day (1,440 to be exact), and that would be a crazy long blog.
7 a.m. - Wake up. Tired? Yes. Pumped for the imminent SAT test-taking experience? Not particularly.
7:30 a.m. - I made toast. Yes, that's right. And I have a witness to stand by my claim that I did NOT burn it (since some of you have absolutely no faith in my cooking abilities. Psh! I can make freakin' FANTASTIC toast. And jell-o.).
7:50 a.m. - Arrive at test room. I know no one, which is fine since I'm wearing a big sweatshirt, super-stretched out jeans, and an unpleasant SAT test-taking face.
8:15 a.m. - Begin test. Cute boy in the desk next to me. Refocus attention on test. Cute boy sitting behind me. STOP! FOCUS! Re-refocus attention on test. Complete test segment. Look at cute boy #1. Nice style, cute shirt, acceptable shoes. Can't really look at cute boy #2 since he's sitting behind me... slightly disappointed.
From around 8:45 until 12:45 - Take 9 more portions of the freakin' SAT which I freakin' hate more than anything. The old lady giving the test got mad at me for reading a book during my break inside the classroom. I had to go outside the classroom to read a freakin' book. I didn't do it. I went outside in protest to the absurd suggestion that I go outside to read. How was this a protest? you might ask. Well, it was more of a personal statement. I don't care if the old Irish woman got my point. I'm pretty sure she was Irish--she had a slight twinge of an accent I think.
1:15 - Arrive home. Eat leftover slice of pizza. Take shower. Dry hair. Get ready for Little Warrior Cheer Camp.
1:40 - Arrive at Little Warrior Cheer Camp. Make friends with adorable little second graders. Teach cheers, play about a zillion rounds of Duck, Duck, Goose!, play one round of Down by the Banks (I got out early on in the game...), hear disgusting secrets of 2nd graders (had no idea they could be so gross. Apparently some can.)
Sometime before 5 p.m. - Perform with all the cute Little Warriors. Good times.
Sometime after 5 p.m. - Carry really heavy case of water bottles across campus. Significant amount of pain...
Around 6 p.m. - Went to costume castle with Lindsey. Found a really really really cute costume that I intend to buy either tomorrow or the next day. Inquire for details and/or to see the picture.
7 1/2 p.m. - Went to work to get people's phone numbers to see if they could cover my shift tomorrow night. After 10 unsuccessful phone calls (and several different attacks from Taylor and Rikard, both of whom I love and adore), someone who was ON SHIFT volunteered to cover it. She's not a host... but she can do it :)
8:30 p.m. - Went to Diedrich's and made myself hot chocolate. I still make a darn good cup of hot chocolate if I may say so.
9 p.m. - Embark on an ADVENTURE with Ben (which basically means we went to the movie theatre to see American Hardcore and decided not to...). We saw a coyote! I called it ugly. I just realized that it's like "coyote ugly." That's actually not what I was going for, but hey! It works. Then we went back to Ben's and watched Can't Hardly Wait. Amazing movie. One of my new favs. Alli came and watched the end with us! Then we left.
11:46 p.m. - Start walking home from Ben's (just fyi, he lives PRETTY DARN FAR from me). He picked me up about two blocks over. I walked fast :)

And now I'm here. Writing. To you. The reader. Sorry.

Careful, you might stumble.

Well I have stumbled across quite a few things today.
1) Apparently Lacey sounds like a slightly stripper-ish name. Not particularly thrilled to hear that...
2) I should never become a window cleaner (In fact, I shouldn't go into any profession that relates to windows in any way.). I'm horrible at cleaning windows.
3) When the word "jerk" is included in the name of a food item it means that it's spicy (ie: Jamaican JERK Chicken Pizza = SPICY!!)
4) Not all boys are horrible, insensitive, jerks. Some are super sweet. <----I kind of already knew that but there hasn't been much proof lately.
And last but not least
5) No matter how "adventurous" I try to be, I will always end up with a BBQ Chicken Chopped Salad at the end of a work shift (don't tell anyone that I had one tonight... someone didn't pick up their take-out order so I was told to take it... very stealthily.)

Very productive weekend if you ask me.

BEWARE! VERY SERIOUS BLOG!

Please please please vote for the El Toro vs. Woodbridge game. Here's the link. It's really important that you vote for EL TORO vs. WOODBRIDGE. You have no idea what is at stake.

http://www.cox.com/oc/cox3/gotw_pick.asp

^Click it to pick it!^

Thank you.

The NON-SERIOUS blog.

I'm not sure I'm capable of making a non-serious blog. I like to add bits of humor where possible in my blogs but I cannot make an entirely non-serious blog. The strange thing about my inability to be not serious is that I really am not a very serious person.

I had intended to blog about my super exciting day but 1) It wasn't super exciting and 2) It would have come out sounding too serious.

Alli, I'm having a really hard time making this a not serious blog.

Well, it looks as though I'm going to have to end this pretty soon because I really have nothing to say... a shocking and rare occurence.

Oh! Before I depart I could mention the fact that I seem incapable of attracting guys my own age. Yes, tonight the only male attention I got was from men between the ages of 29 and 33 (I'm guessing). It wasn't even the perverted "I like checking out younger girls because I'm nearing middle age and I feel insecure about my own attractiveness." These men actually, truly expected me to be at least 21. I wasn't sure whether to be flattered or disheartened. It either means I look mature for my age, or I look tired... beat if you will. I'm going to go with the first one because I'm an optimist.