Before I talk about my weekend

I'd like to say that either Steve Jobs thinks I'm totally hot or I have some other secret admirer. I came home to find a $15 iTunes prepaid card waiting for me. Who? Who loves me so much that they'd send me free music? I must know!

And here is my Mouth kvetch for the day: She has been moping around the office all morning because she lost her friend's desk organizer. Whenever someone walks into the office she says, "Have you seen it? It's metal? It's like this? You know?" and then she points at something metal, like the filing cabinet or a desk drawer pull. Yes. Yes, Mouth. I've heard of metal. I'm familiar with metal. I know metal. Gah!

Okay, so hi. I somehow managed to force myself onto that airplane yesterday afternoon. Mentally, I think I'm somewhere in-between time zones but physically I am most assuredly back in this Godforsaken place.

I had an overwhelming sense of being home the moment I stepped out of the cab and started the familiar walk up the hill to 457 #1. That feeling only increased as the weekend went on. I think feeling so at home had a lot to do with the fact that the weekend didn't feel at all like a vacation. It was as if I hadn't even left for five months. We did dishes and weeded the garden and went shopping for body wash and shave creme. Nothing at all out-of-the-ordinary.

(We did see that new Star Wars movie. He laughed at me because I sat through 2 hours of alien races, alien spaceships, and alien weaponry only to walk out of the theatre in disbelief of Natalie Portman's pregnancy. I'm sorry, but that bitch was not carrying twins.

So, yes, I will be back for good in just two and a half months (as everyone is so quick to point out), but that doesn't really make it any easier.

I'm home.

I'm back in Salem.

I will be at my house in San Francisco in twelve hours.

Tweeeeeeeeeeeeeeeelve hourrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrs! Gah!

That's, like, 15 million years from now.

Yes, I'm whiney today. I'm tired! I was up late packing. And I just don't think it's fair to make me wait twelve hours.

I'm excited and anxious and antsy and if I don't find some place to put all of those things for the time being I just might explode into little bits of Taylor.

This is completely inane and I don't care because it's wasting time (albeit 14 seconds).

On the bright side, I'm going to sleep extraordinarily well tonight because, finally, I will not be alone.

The Bathroom Bombardier,

henceforth known as Margie Gal, just startled me. I was quietly sitting at my desk minding my own business when, out of nowhere, she started saying "shit fuck oh shit fuck fuck shit oh fuck". Do you know why she started spewing expletives with a fervor that would make someone with Turrets stand up and clap? Because she minimized one of the windows she was working with. This just bolsters my belief that the woman is actually unlearning the things she's already committed to memory.

Also, when I just coughed she said "God Bless you" and I said "That was a cough, but thanks!" and she said "Yeah, 'cause you could use it."

I don't care if you're ninety-twelve years old lady - I'll hit you.

And now she's sitting at her desk bobbing her head up and down to Mary J's Family Affair. I'm not sure if she's gettin' crunk or percolatin', but it is not pretty.

Packing List v.1.0

For Plane

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Plane Ticket

MP3 Player

-Wicked Soundtrack

-American Life

-Breakaway

-Stop All the World Now

-Out There Live

-Want One

-Want Two

Drawing on the Right Side of the Brain

PRINT May/June issue

Thursday

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Black Ben Sherman shirt

Brown Houndstooth Express pants

Friday

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Ratty AE Jeans

Navy Blue/Grey Sisley long-sleeve

Saturday

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Giant Martini Glass filled with Krystal (Beyonce just came on the

radio)

Blue-green BR light-weight sweater

Bright green Structure shirt

BR Cargo pants

Sunday

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Striped Gap Shirt

Grey Gap zippy hoodie

Dark BR Jeans

Monday

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Re-wear a pair of jeans

Blue/brown French Connection shirt

Shoes

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Black Kenneth Cole

Brown Kenneth Cole

Grey AE Sneakers

Also

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Black socks

Blue socks

Grey socks

Green Socks

Underwear x 6

undershirts/sleepy shirts x 5

Sleepy pants x 2

Black Belt

Brown Belt

Navy Blue Belt

Also Also

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Watch

Phone

Phone charger

MP3 player charger

Toiletries

Quarters

Please tell me what I'm forgetting!

I'm wearing brown argyle socks today.

If there was ever a day to wear argyle socks it's today. Also, I'm wearing my brown wingtip Doc Martens. As much as those two things make me happy, the state of affairs on top of my head somewhat cancels them out.

I need a haircut so badly that (other than the poorly-styled mess I'm sporting today) the only styles I could possibly eke out are either this or this.

Also, I have a cut on my finger. I might have to have it amputated if it doesn't fall off first. I've been sitting here all morning thinking about how differently I'll have to live my life without a left middle finger, all because I was careless when I cut open the toy car prize from my box of Trix.

On a more positive note, it's Monday. I'm leaving for San Francisco on Thursday
(for the long weekend, not to stay) and I've learned from experience that you really can't get to Thursday without going through Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday. So the only way I can get through these next three days without slitting my wrists with the sharp edge of my tape dispenser is by telling myself that I'm almost there.

All I can say about

last night's late-night entry is: hangover hangover hangover.

At work, nonetheless, but only because I'm leaving at 11 today anyway.

I went out to dinner with Mother and Bitsy last night. I thought it might be nice to finally take Bits out for her birthday and we thought it might be nice to invite Mother as well. She has a lot going on in her life right now and a fun night out at one of her favorite restaurants in the city was most definitely in order.

I suppose this might also be a nice time to offer a public apology to the nice bartender girl that I so rudely shook my empty glass at to indicate that, yes, I did in fact need another mojito. I am not a glass-shaker by nature! Her mojitos were just so good!

And then, thoroughly disappointed with the restaurants advertised Disco Night Thursday, we loaded into the car and put on Mother's Get Down tonight: A 70s Explosion CD. I thought I was having a good time in the front seat when Vicki Sue Robinson came on until I turned around to find Bitsy in the back seat singing, dancing, and wearing Mother's straw garden hat.

Let me just say that, as fun at that CD was last night, when I got in the car this morning? It was too early to go anywhere even remotely close to Funkytown.

mojito mojito mojito

MOJITOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOS!

I weigh one-half pound heavier this morning than I did yesterday morning.

I like to weigh myself every morning, just to make sure I'm not wasting away again. Also, the new scale in my bathroom blinks and has my name on it. Truth be told, I'm a sucker for things that blink and have my name on them.

Sometimes, when Bitsy and I are bored at work (read: every moment of every work day), we like to play Let's Pretend. Like, the other day we pretended that we were going to open a day care center! We thought we'd open it on The Lynnway (a very busy, traffic-y street) and organize games of Marco Polo out in the front yard. And then Bitsy came up with the idea of the Scissor Relay Race, which I am totally behind. We'd feed them nothing but gummy worms and Jolt soda and then, to induce nap time, we'd probably have to give them whiskey and a muscle relaxer or two.

I think it would be wicked fun!

Happy First Anniversary

to all the Massachusetts married 'Mos! See people? One year later and nothing catastrophic has happened. People aren't spontaneously combusting. Entire cities aren't getting swallowed by the very earth on which they stand. Naked men are not having sex in front of classrooms full of children. Tony Danza did get a talk show, but I'd like to think that's completely unrelated.

Last night was the series finale of Everybody Loves Raymond. I do not love Raymond. I don't even like him. But I watched the show because, let's face it, I can't afford to be any further out of the loop. I know that the show had quite a following though. While discussing this with Connie last night she called the show "one of the most relatable" on television. Considering the show was about a married couple and Connie is a 21-year-old single woman, I suppose that says a lot.

Although, just moments later, Connie called both Madeline and Eloise "fucking bitches", so we're not talking about a girl playing with a full deck of cards.

I spent the weekend

recuperating, doing laundry, and eating more food than any 5'9" 135 lb. person ever should. Bottom line: I'm feeling better but my weekend was more boring than an episode of Joey.

Because of this, I will tell you a story from Bitsy's weekend.

The punch line of the story is that Bitsy had "dead people mud" on her foot. The story, which surpasses the punch line, is that she had to go to a burial service on Saturday. At the end of the service everyone stepped up to the hole in the ground (a small-ish hole. Just large enough for the box that held the urn that held the ashes to fit into) and threw a handful of dirt down in. I've personally never heard of this tradition, but I'm sure it carries with it some amount of symbolism.

The symbolism? Completely lost on Bitsy, because she was not having the dirt at all. Feeling that it might be rude to be the only person at the service to eschew the dirt-tossing ritual, she eventually mustered the strength to approach the hole and, with her foot, kick a little bit of dirt into the hole...except she must have miscalculated somewhere, because she ending up losing her balance and falling into the hole. She was knee-deep in the ground and probably could have been in a much worse position had she not grabbed the deceased's headstone to catch herself.

So to recap, she walked up to the hole, kicked dirt down onto the remains of the dearly departed, fell down into the hole, and braced herself on the tombstone of said departed.

For me, this story is every bit as funny as it is completely irreverent.

"Condominium resident Ron Fleming

said he was walking through the parking lot when he saw what appeared to be a rolled-up carpet falling from several stories up. Then he heard someone yell that a woman was laying on the 10-foot by 6-foot green canvas awning about eight feet off the ground.

"You don't expect someone to say to you, 'There's a woman on the awning,'" Fleming said.

HAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA! I CAN'T STOP!

I apologize, truly.

Why is it that

a 70-year-old woman falling off of her balcony and landing, relatively unscathed, on an awning nine stories below her is one of the funniest things I've ever heard? Why? This story is old. This poor woman plummeted to what could have been her death days ago and I still can't stop laughing about it!

Obviously, this story would not be at all funny and, indeed, tragic if she had died.

But she didn't! This lady did not die! She toppled off of her balcony (while cleaning, reportedly), plunged nine stories and landed on an awning!

Dear Satan,

Get the vodka chilled, I'll be there soon.

Yours,
Taylor-

Proof that I am deathly ill (and I can't believe I'm going to admit this):

Today I'm wearing a black Ben Sherman shirt, brown houndstooth Producer pants from Express, a black belt, and brown shoes (J.Crew).

I wanted to die a thousand deaths. I'm very sick right now and the proof is, as they say, in the pudding. My get-up today is the pudding.

I don't know if it's allergies or a sinus infection or the black plague or what, but it's hitting me hard and getting worse by the day. This morning I woke up, got out of bed, bent over to pick up a t-shirt, and snot dripped right out of my nose and onto my big toe.

And when I die next week I'm going to take the lady upstairs’ advice and have my epitaph read: See? I really was dying.

The lovely Kate was kind enough to offer to send me hot tea. I said that I've found water not to mail well so she should just send the tea minus the hot water. Then she said that maybe she would just send the hydrogen and the oxygen particles and let me make the water and the tea myself. Then I said that I would love for her to send me H's and the O's! Then Tiffany said she heard Heather has a crush on Bobby!

Lunch time.

There are certain everyday sounds that I really, truly love.

I love the gloop-glop sound of stirring pudding or cake batter. I love the sound of turning through the pages of a book, either slowly and one at a time or rapidly, like a flipbook. I love the sound of particular keyboards - I will always test-type on a keyboard before I buy it to hear how it clicks and clacks, not feel how it types. I love the sound of hard-heeled shoes on long, empty, hard-surfaced corridors. And I love the sound of hair being snipped with sharp scissors or even razored (you know, to add more shape and texture). Tires on gravel and flags in the wind and hot coffee being poured!

There are also sounds that make my ears bleed and my brain hemorrhage and my stomach do flips that would make the Russian gymnastics team jealous.

Obviously, I hate the sound of people coughing. Especially the same person coughing over and over again. I hate the sound of someone chewing gum - I've never chewed gum in my life (a fact some people find hard to believe). I hate Mouth's laugh (sounds like an automatic weapon: ah---ah--ah-ah-ah-ahahahahah) and the Bathroom Bombardier's laugh (think Wicked Witch of the West). I also really hate the sound of children laughing. I know that makes me sound like an awful lemon puss but it's true! Lighters being lit and matches being struck and plastic bags being crinkled!

I find myself saying "I'm sorry, what?" a lot today because I'm focusing less on the prattle that's happening here in the office and more on the sounds around me.

I guy I work with is getting married.

His fiancee was in the office with him this morning. She was wearing an aquamarine t-shirt tucked into grey sweatpants (the kind with the elastic waistband and the elastic cuff at the bottom of each leg). Natch, the outfit was completed with a pair of white reebok sneakers. I honestly didn't know people like that still existed.

I think the people over at PETA should rethink their platform. Who cares if Jennifer Lopez's clothing line is using real fur when there are people out there sporting elastic waistbands? I would line up to throw stones for that cause.

I've been annoying myself for two days straight now. I've been feeling a bit under the weather lately and have developed a cough. I'm not going to lie about it. I hate people who cough. Incessant coughing makes me want to slam my head up against sharp corners.

Something that I can't help but find amusing: The Runaway Bride Action Figure. "Get your RUNAWAY BRIDE Today before they RUN out. Limited supplies and first come first serve only. Comes complete with Towel, Vegas Baby tee-shirt and jogging pants."

I'd like to think that Mother enjoyed her special day.

The highlight for her was probably the dinner that I lovingly handcrafted.

The highlight for me was probably when I yelped "I just got hit in the eye with lobster and I'm not NOT happy about it!" at the dinner table.

I believe my most favorite Mother's Day memory of all-time was the one when I was very, very young and thought it might be nice to make breakfast in bed for Mother. I made her a bowl of Apple Jacks and a cup of coffee, except I just put the coffee grounds into a mug of hot water. Mother, the sweet lady that she is, ate that bowl of cereal and drank (a few sips) of that coffee as if I'd just prepared a 4 star meal!

I think I’m suffering from allergies.

I took some Tylenol Severe Allergy Fast Relief and, let me just say: it’s fast. I feel just like I did last night after 2 raspberry margaritas (I celebrated Cinco de Mayo with Miss Angel last night).

I think that maybe my sleepiness of late might be attributed to the allergies. I could probably cut-and-paste William’s latest entry right here because I feel the same way right now. I would have to change the part about the co-worker telling him that he’s “burning the candle at both ends” with Bitsy saying “maybe it’s because your life sucks” though.

My life doesn’t suck though! Despite all of the whiney-bitchy-moany that I do here, I’m actually happy. My life is going the right way! I’m going back to school and back to the city I love and (no one hit me for saying this) the man that I love. All of that really does outweigh what’s going on in my life this very second.

So there. I said it. And now that I’ve said I should be allowed to whiney-bitchy-moany all that I want!

I asked Bitsy if I should bring a cake in for today.

She said that it was like Christmas in May just seeing the two of them up there on that stage. And then, she says, she cried a little - just a few tears of joy.

Personally, I was half-expecting Scott Savol to whip an Uzi out from beneath one of his enormous suede jackets and blow away the first few rows of the audience.

And then we have Paula. Or, actually, Corey Clark had Paula. Allegedly. I just don’t know what to believe. To the stupid eye, she looks like she’s toast. But, really, can we please look at Clark’s motives? Publicity, people! Publicity! He needs to promote that crappy album he’s releasing. How is it that he told all his friends and family about it as it was all going down and this is the first we’ve heard of it? I’m sorry, but if Connie came to me today and said “I’ve been sleeping with Johnny Depp” I’d be on the phone with People as soon as we hung up.

Then again, she’s nutbag Paula Abdul. Maybe she bonked that talentless Justin Guarini look-alike.

I think I’m suffering from allergies.

I took some Tylenol Severe Allergy Fast Relief and, let me just say: it’s fast. I feel just like I did last night after 2 raspberry margaritas (I celebrated Cinco de Mayo with Miss Angel last night).

I think that maybe my sleepiness of late might be attributed to the allergies. I could probably cut-and-paste William’s latest entry right here because I feel the same way right now. I would have to change the part about the co-worker telling him that he’s “burning the candle at both ends” with Bitsy saying “maybe it’s because your life sucks” though.

My life doesn’t suck though! Despite all of the whiney-bitchy-moany that I do here, I’m actually happy. My life is going the right way! I’m going back to school and back to the city I love and (no one hit me for saying this) the man that I love. All of that really does outweigh what’s going on in my life this very second.

So there. I said it. And now that I’ve said I should be allowed to whiney-bitchy-moany all that I want!

Four Three reasons why today is a better day than yesterday:

We have American Idol tonight. I don’t want to talk about the surrounding Paula drama. I just don’t want to do it.

The crazy nutbag woman that I’ve been dealing with for what seems like 3 years but has actually only been 2 weeks finally got her paper this morning and, thus, I’m not expecting any more calls from her.

Hazel, the woman that comes in to pay her bill every month and once asked Bitsy to “rub her arthritic fingers” came into the office this morning, but was actually looking for Classified (I hope I didn’t come across as too eager to get her out of the office when I opened the door and shoved her through, cane and all).

Also, Mouth was supposed to be in at 10am and hasn’t arrived yet. This could mean a Mouth-free day. Bah, she’s here.

I could talk about how,

despite my favorite BR cargo pants and green cowboy shirt, my day was entirely too shitty. I could talk about how incomprehensibly awful the situation at work went down. I could talk about Opie's trip to the vet. I could talk about the unending flow of hospital bills that's piling up right here in front of me. I could! But I won't!

Instead, I'd like to talk about the critters that have taken up residence in my backyard. I say "critters" because I'm not certain what they are. I've only seen little brownish blurs dart between bushes or under the garage door. At first we thought there was only one. Now, though, my father says that he's spotted two out at once.

I say "spotted" as if he was casually passing from the driveway to the backdoor and happened to catch two critters out of the corner of his eye. Not so much, people. The man is obsessed. He spent half of yesterday tearing the house apart in search of binoculars and the other half of the day positioned in the bathroom window, watching the backyard like a hawk.

And now he's doing all sorts of research, trying to find the best method of entrapment. I've already told him that anything that might kill the critters is out of the question. I don't care how many holes they've put into the backyard. It's not a prize-winning lawn - I say let the little buggers have their fun! He seems to have decided on a method of trickery: leave an unset live trap in the yard with food in it for two weeks. This, allegedly, forces the critters into a false sense of security. Then, one day, set the trap. Voila! Critters in a cage!

Please, people. Don't tell me I'm the only one with Elmer Fudd vs. Bugs Bunny cartoons running through his mind.

The critters will outfox my father. That's just a given.

I have a feeling it's going to be a bad day,

so I've put my favorite BR cargo pants on and I'm wearing my green cowboy shirt and I'm just going to hope for the best!

Now, if I had a new pair of brown shoes to sport then I'd be able to hope for the best and look fantastic.

This Just in!

I just threw up some pea soup, but, much to my very own dismay, managed to keep it in my mouth to avoid a mess!

For the record, pea soup is not a gift that keeps on giving.

Happy May First!

If my head didn't feel like it was going to explode into bloody bits of skull and brain then maybe April showers could have brought May flowers.

Given the recent mysterious disappearance of my youthful energy, though, we probably won't be seeing May flowers til June.

Also, I feel really crappy about work right now! Some poo has been going down up in that joint and, despite Bitsy's reassurance that everything is okay, I can't help but feel at least semi-responsible.

I don't know what it is with that place. There's something there - some negative energy or something - that's affecting everyone and everything that steps into that office. I feel like I've been reduced to something that I'm not. It sounds completely retarded considering the triviality of the job, but it's true. I love Bits to death but I really can't wait to get away from that place.

Also, does anyone even think that I'll ever be happy anywhere? I'm not saying that in a "O Woe is Me" way, either. Sometimes I just amaze myself with the amount of bitching/moaning I can do. Besides, I'm eventually going to run out of places to which I might be able to run away. I hear Topeka is nice this time of year, though!