Yes, I've been horrilbly horrible

The parentals got here at 8 ish this morning. We went to IHOP to get some breakfast, talked some, and now they're sleeping. They were on the road for 14 ish hours? Maybe more. I don't know. They stop to eat real meals, MarkyMark and I usually eat in the truck. I'm not sure how long I should expect them to crash for. MarkyMark and I are usually out for about 12 hours after that marathon drive, but my parents are different.

As I'm sure you've guessed, I took today off work. I suppose I didn't really need to, since they'll be sleeping all day, but whatever.

Sorry I've been AWOL. I either haven't had anything to say, or I've been so beat by the time that I get home that I just completely crash. I don't even cook dinner most nights, just pass out.

I got Starbucks with Hefe last night, and we just chilled at his house talking till like 11. I don't know what it is, but me and that guy can just talk about the randomest shit for hours. We only shut up last night cuz I looked at my phone and saw that it was 11, and he had to work today. I stopped in at a 24 hour store for some necessary groceries last night, and ended up talkin to some weird (and I think drunk) dude for like 15 minutes. It was funny, he was going on and on about how Sacramento has a secret fued going on between all the different races, and how houses get burned down and shit. Crazy dude...

When I got home I cleaned up the house some. Just tryin to make it not appear to be so much of a war zone. I think I finally went to bed at 1 something.

When I went to my orthopedic surgeon last week she said my knee's lookin great, and I don't need to see her anymore. I was tellin her about my new problem, and she gave me about 2 week's worth of pills, and said to call her and let her know if they were working or not, and she'd write me a perscription. I guess these pills are something they've started using on people with Fibromyalgia. Dudes, they are the shit. While they don't take away all my pain (nothing does anyway), they do make it so I don't get the brain fog, which my last pills didn't do. This doc is fucking awesome. She said she was helpin me out cuz she likes me, and doesn't think someone my age needs to be using a frickin cane to walk. After she said that though I started thinking, why does this chick like me? I mean, there's nothing I could really see. It's been bugging me. She told me if there's ever anything I need, just call and she'll try to help me out. Which is awesome, but that I don't know why is bugging me. I know, just shut up Kay.

Then I met with my normal doc Tuesday, just to follow up on my million things going on. I've got a pre-op on the 6th, and surgery on the 15th. He said the Cat scan results (I've had two) can't tell if my lump/tumor/whatever in my neck is benign or malignant, so they definately want it out. They'll do testing on the tissue afterwards to find out if it's bad news. So I'll be out of work approx 5 days for that. Then after I'm fixed up from that I need to get the wisdom teeth out. And why wouldn't I be blessed with all four? My dentist said the bottom ones are in sideways, so they'll need to drill those bad boys out. It's cool though. After my first surgery I'm not really freakin out anymore. I'm cool with anyone cutting into me for whatever they need. I know it'll be alright. I'm not looking forward to the IV, but I'll do whatever I need to to get this shit straightened out.

(If you're a bit queasy about blood and needles you might just want to skip this):
I set a new personal record at the Lab this week. I needed one more blood test, just one little bottle. I walked in and said, "I don't want to be that guy, but can I request that either *Betty* or *Wilma* draw my blood today?" The chick sitting at the desk (we'll call her Pebbles, since she's a bit younger than my requested techs) remembered me, since she tries every time I go in there to get my blood, and fails every time. So Betty tried first, and stuck my right arm, with no love. Then I asked if she wanted to go for the hand, since that's what she had success with last time. She said if I was down, she'd give it a try. No love there either. The vein was moving in my hand, it just kept scooting away from the needle. Betty says she's done, and Pebbles asks if she can give it a try, since Wilma works in another part of the clinic now, and they're only to call her for emergencies. I tell Pebbles to go for it, I don't have a preference who tries. She also tries the right arm, since the veins there just feel better than the left arm. No love. The ladies feel so bad that they keep stabbing and stabbing me, but I feel bad because I'm making their job suck. Pebbles only tries once, then calls Wilma. So we're waiting for her to get there, and I ask if I can just paper-cut my finger and squeeze the blood into the little tube or something. They laughed and said they wished. Wilma shows, and they already have her little lab coat ready and waiting. I tell her that she's the super-hero who always sticks it on the first try, and she laughed and said I probally jinxsed her now. She tried the left arm, since the other was rather pin-cushioned by this time. No love. She must have nicked it or something though, cuz by the time she pulled the needle out there was a nice bruise already forming. So she went back to the right arm, and gets the vein instantly. They fill the little bottle in no time, and tape me up. I told them that I love them all, but really hope I don't have to come back and see them ever again. They're a great bunch of ladies, it's just not fun for any of us when I have to come see them. My doc even apologizes every time he has to send me to the lab. I'm not a squeamish about the needles anymore, though I don't like them by a long shot. I just try to joke and laugh about it, cuz otherwise it'll blow. And laughing's always fun. I know it's gonna suck, they know it's gonna suck, so why not at least have some fun with it? Maybe I should just learn to do it myself. Some other dude walked in for his own bloodwork when I was on my 4th poke, and he was watching all the trouble it was with me. I told him that they're all very good at their job... He laughed and didn't look so sure at all.

It was just MarkyMark's birthday. It kind of sucks not being able to celebrate birthdays together, but I get to make up for it soon. I love MarkyMark. We had quite a scare the other day because PieCat was missing. Marky was really starting to worry about her, she'd been missing for about 8 hours. PieCat was found in the shed, apparently MarkyMark's gramp had locked her in there on accident. MarkyMark washed her up, and she has barely left Marky's side since. Poor girl.

When my grandmother went on her little road trip this summer, her and gramps stopped at some garage sales (as usual), and found something they thought was perfect for me. I admit, when I first heard about it I said Hell-to-the-no! To my grams. Yeah, I'm a great kid... But then the idea started to not be quite as creepy. And now that's it's arrived (my parents brought him), I think it's mad cool. Everyone, I'd like to introduce you to Rowdy (his tempory name, a homage to the stuffed dog on Scrubs). I keep catching him out of the corner of my eye and thinking he's moved. I keep freakin myself out. But I love him. How many people do you know that have someone's taxidermied dog from a garage sale in their freakin house? I'm not too sure MarkyMark will find it as awesome as I do...


Crossbow's off in Texas for some sort of super-special training. She won't be back till late September. By that time Hefe will be gone for his bullshit in North Carolina. And ThanksgivingGirl's leaving to go home to the east coast for 2 weeks. All my bro's are leaving me. I was thinking the other day, and I really need to get out and get some new friends. Really. Cuz in our job, you never know, they could decide to transfer any of my buds at any time. And then I'm completely assed out. I guess everyone doing their training and vacations just has me depressed or some shit. It just blows that once you get close to someone they leave (StapleGun, Choncho's leaving this weekend, SwimBoy has like a month left till his contract's up and he'll be leaving. He doesn't want to renew the contract, the wifey wants to move back to her home state of Florida.) I need friends that aren't from my work, so I don't have to worry about them leaving my ass all the time.

Whatever, I've rambled long enough, I'm gonna take a nap. Much love to you all, and I'll try to update more often. Try.

It's almost the weekend. Almost.

I've got a 4 day weekend coming up, and I'm going to enjoy the hell out of it. Well, I'll do the best I can from my crutches. I think it's time to go out and get trashed again, but we'll see. I didn't go out at all with StapleGun while she was here. That makes me a bit sad, she's always a blast. The timing was just never right though. Crossbow just went home to TheBay and went out with her old homies, so not sure if she'll be down. I should probably start packing my shit up, but I know I won't. I'm a bit of a procrastinator. Just a wee bit.

Look at the beauty of Mi Casa! It's the downstairs part with the open door. A big beautiful beauty. June first that new house is mine kids! I don't have words to convey just how happy this makes me. And I know the place isn't new; it's actually rather old, but that's part of its charm. This will be the first place that's mine and only mine. I have no idea what I'm going to do with 3 freakin bedrooms, Lord knows I don't have enough furniture to fill it... Me and Hefe have joked about him moving in with me, but I doubt that'll happen. He's got his own place, and I know he needs his space sometimes. Hell, so do I. Plus, he's still my boss. Such things are frowned upon at my work. Actually, they're not so much frowned upon as downright forbidden. And since I kick it with everyone I work with, I doubt such thing would stay a secret. If only MarkyMark could relocate. That would make everything perfect. Plus, I'd then have custody of PieCat, since she resides with MarkyMark. God I miss that cat. She's my sweet little girl. That's PieCat with a ginormous Teddy Bear I may or may not have bought for MarkyMark one Valentine's before I was informed that MarkyMark strongly dislikes stuffed animals. But MarkyMark still has it, 2 years later... That's love. Or something.

Garbage is releasing a Best Of cd mid June, and I'm so getting it. It's going to have one (or was it two?) new song(s), a DVD of a bunch of the songs live, and, of course, the best shite they've ever released (according to some network exec who's probably never listened to them in his life...)

And my girls The Donnas are releasing a new CD sometime this summer. This is a good year musically kiddies. For me anyway.

I've got to go. My knee's tweakin like a mother-fucker, and I need to go ice it (Ice ice baby). If only my painkillers didn't make me so damn loopy, then I might still be taking them.

I'm baaaaaaaaaaaaack!

Good morning boys and girls. Today we're going to talk about me. Like that's something out of the ordinary...

I just got a fantabulousa phone call kiddies. The 3 bedroom place a block from Starbucks that I looked at a couple weeks ago is mine! BwaHaHaHa. I'm so stoked. This is the first place I actually filled out the app for, and I get it! I just have to go meet with the LandladyChica and sign some paperwork. Never mind that they think Hefe is my boyfriend (well, he looked at the place with me, and we've both been calling them to find out what's up, so I suppose I can understand.)

Today's my first day drug-free. I know the day's not nearly over yet, but the morning is when I usually reach for the pill bottle, and I haven't yet. Yea me!

At my Post-Op Monday I discovered that they did indeed snip off a little chunk of my meniscus, and did a "lateral release" on my tendon (this little release will let my kneecap go back where it's supposed to).

Hefe just called and said he's down to go with me to sign my paperwork whenever the chica said. (Not that he's signing with me. Just, I still can't drive yet, so I'm still bumming rides.)

Dudes, Ms Dewey is the best site ever. It's an interactive search engine and I love it! I just like killing time clicking "Best of Dewey." Go check it out.

My knee is really nasty looking, the skin is hella irritated. But I'm going to be nice and not post a picture of that because, well, some people blog during lunch, and that picture and lunch would not work out very well.

StapleGun is gone again, and she will be missed. Her SignificantOther flew into town yesterday, and they took off for a quick visit to San Fran, and then a major roadtrip to Texas. Hawaiian doesn't think StapleGun and S/O will last and we even placed a wager on it. Maybe Hawaiian's just a romantic pessimist... Or maybe I'm overyly optimistic in a totally delusional way. Who knows. I think StapleGun and the S/O are good together, but hey, whatever.

It's shower time kids, we'll see how that works out. If I fall down and bust a hip, don't be all "I told you so." It's more polite to just point and laugh.

God damn

Oh my dear sweet baby Jesus. I'm dying inside my head, and because we're a week out to surgery now kids, I can't do anything about it. I have a headache the size of your mom, and all my other joints are fucking me out of my mind with pain. My elbow is excruciating. My elbow folks. How the fuck is that related to my knee pain I'd like to know. I left work at 11 30, although I don't really see what the point was. Hurt here, hurt there, who gives a fuck right?

IHOP was and always will be the shit. StapleGun, Hawaiian, another chick and I went there, and all was good in the world. There's nothing some french toast can't cure. I'd go there now if I hadn't just taken my sleepy pills. And if my stomach wasn't being a whiny little bitch. You shut up or I'll punch you in your crap-lousy face! Or something like that.

I have to admit I'm not much of a drunk dialer. Mostly my friends take my phone so I'll stop texting and be social before we've even finished the first drink. Crossbow does that a lot. I've drunk dialed MarkyMark, but I think that's it. I threw my phone across a yard and into a sprinkler once because my dear mother was calling and I didn't want her to know I was trashed.

Regarding MarkyMark, I'm not really sure what to say. MarkyMark lives 701 miles away from me, according to the almighty Google; and as a result, I don't see MarkyMark very often.

I'm going back to bed. Love to you all.

No Title

Sooooooooooooooooo drunk right now.

We didn't go out. Me, StapleGun and Hawaiian just kicked it in StapleGun's room and ordered a pizza, and talked. God I've missed her.

I'm going to bed cuz we're goin to IHOP in the morning. Like I think 10. But I have to wake up at 5 to talk to MarkyMark.

Much love to you all.

Unique New York

Oh my God kids!

StapleGun's coming back to town for roughly the next two weeks! She should get in tonight. I can't fucking wait!

And I'm late for work.

A dream is just a dream. A goal is a dream with a plan and a deadline

Last night, along with trying to get my buzz on and posting incoherently, I found myself doing a little Myspace Stalking. Thank the Lord I'm not the only one who does this. It started with checking a friend's page to see what she was up to (StapleGun actually) and then I found a mutual friend of ours in her Friends link, then stalked a few more people from MutualFriend's page. And Some of MutualFriend's friends have really pretty eyes. I love eyes. I can fall into crushdom with someone based on eyes alone. I spose it's wrong of me to stalk on Myspace when I have my page set up so people can't do that to me. I'm just very guarded. I'd even prefer to be able to have some sort of semi-friend list that is different than what your real friends can see. Cuz some of the people on there... I had my blog on there set up to preferred list only, and I was getting comments from people not on it. Not a safe feeling. I almost want to delete my Myspace or have one set up for just a few of my friends. I'm just too uncomfortable with the whole if-they-can-find-it-they-can-read-it way that the system works. I don't want to be found. Even by people I went to high school with, or work with, or anything. If you're a friend, you already know how to find me, if you're not... Don't fucking look. I don't want to talk to you. It's just akwardness I'm not looking to initiate.
(*warning: family ranting bullshit from this point forward*) That, and the fact that my Mother is on there. How lame is that shit I ask you. And my brother. There's shit in my life I really don't need them knowing. I quit sending bulletins and blogging on my Myspace mostly because of my wonderful family. I don't like my family all up in my business; and they seem to think that because we're family, it's their right. It's only blood fools. My family was an interesting one to grow up in. I'm not gonna bitch (anymore than I have), it just resulted in us not being very close. Or maybe I just rebelled against their beliefs and shit, who knows. I just don't want them all close. I consider my friends my family. Maybe because my friends won't let me down, or judge me like my family does, I don't know. My friends (my family of friends) are very important to me, more so than my actual family. I'd do anything for them, and they for me. So Hefe, Crossbow, StapleGun, MarkyMark, ThanksgivingGirl and of course all of you out there in Bloggerland, I love you guys. Thanks for letting me be me.

A drunk girl's words are a sober girl's thoughts

I'm addicted to iTunes Radio. RadioActiveFM to be exact. I can't wait to get home and turn it on every day. It just plays the best shit. I was cut off for the last week cuz my internet's a little bitch and it was horrible. Horribly horrible. Some might even go so far as to call it terrible.
I don't want to be alone anymore. I don't like it. Being alone and cut off from the internet is a hell worse than any you could face in the afterlife. My buddy StapleGun is now gone. She was good for when you're lonely. Always doin somethin with that girl. And CrossBow's on vacation this week. Not really a vacation, she's just moving, but still, I haven't seen her in like... a week and a half? Two weeks? Who knows. Hefe I don't seem to see enough either, and he's leaving to drive home (to Washington) tomorrow night, and by the time he gets back I'll be gone. Shaft. I've been kicking it with another girl from work (the one I spent Thanksgiving with) cuz her little boy is on the east coast with her family. She's leaving me Saturday tho. But she's fun. We've been going to lunch (3 times this week, that's like a record) and fucking about at work and all sorts of silliness. I like her. She's fun. And she swears more than me, it's great.
Update on my Precious Zachary (my truck). He's dying. If he were human, I'd diagnose it as terminal cancer. But since he's not a human, I'll diagnose it as the death rattle in his engine, a fucked up headlight from some deuche on the freeway who didn't tie down the shit in his truck, a check engine light, future brake issues (oh I know they're coming, I replaced the front ones a year ago, the back'll get me soon), tire issues (I need new ones after the first of the year), and a strange sound possibly to be linked to my front alignment. And I refuse to keep dumping my lil bitty paycheck into him. He's 13 years old. He's been well loved. So when I go home for Christmas (5 days, Lord baby Jesus, help me), I shall have to purchase a Zachary Two (Finance gods permitting), and I shall then drive it home. My mother seems determined to send my lil bro down here with me, to keep me safe or some shit, I don't know, but if that little boy (He's 18) and I are trapped in a vehicle for 13+ hours, one of us is going to end up in a body bag. Plus, I can't stand how slow he drives. The boy doesn't seem to understand the concept of going over the speed limit. Especially when one has a radar detector. And he's not a fan of free-ways. I'll be much better off on my own. I can keep me awake just fine, and I'll drive at night. So much easier than fighting day-time traffic. I'm not thinkin the mother will go for this plan, but tough shit. Tough fucking shit momma. Bull shit even.
Lord, I have no idea what to get my parents. At all. But what with buying a new truck, I may not be buying them anything... That's gonna be painful in the pocket. Especially considering I'll be going from no payment ever to OUCH. So much for that new gym membership I was planning on in January. Oy, and it had an indoor pool... Shaft.
So yeah, I'm a whiney little bitch. If you don't like it, there's the door. Yeah, over there, need some help to it? Cuz my boot would be more than happy to assist you.
Ha! I love me. That's what a lil drinkin does. I get all, "Fuck you mother fucker, I can take you." Why is there no good music right now? What the hell is that? I hate the slow shit.
Jerk Store and Rev. Lick, you'll be taken off the Dead Bloggage list once you post for two weeks consistently. Some of you could argue that I don't even do that, but you could just fuck off. It's my list. I'll do what I want with it. I will. Deal with it.
Dude, I want to go get trashed with my buds; one good trashfest at a club before I go to my damn Mother's house. My parents don't drink. And I'm going to want to. Soooo bad. And to smoke. My parents stress me out. How the hell do people survive living in the same state as their parents? Maybe I just need to grow a set of balls and tell my parents I'm a big girl now. But... No, probably not.
K, I'm starting to fall asleep, and I have 2 doctor's appointments tomorrow (Bout my wonderfully awesome knees, and the other to the shrink I have to see because I drank that beer once upon a time durning lunchtime. Which apparently is a no-no. Well, hey, now I know.)
Anywho, night.

Thanks Holly

I've had so much shit going on I'm not quite sure what to do with myself. That beer I drank at lunch a few weeks ago came back to bite me in the ass. I had to go see a mother fuckin counselor. I quit my tanning bed. I'm still tryin to get a part time job at the best place in the world. Just for fun. The manager of one of the local stores (who I think was eyein me when I was in there) told me that after Christmas all the local stores will have 1-2 openings. After January I'm joining a new gym (two words: Indoor Pool), which is hella retarded in that it's so far away. But, if I get into the awesome job, it's close to that.
One of the girls I kick it with is back in town (for 2 weeks; and because of her many piercings I'm calling her StapleGun) so she rounded up her posse, and we went out Friday night, and I got tore the fuck down. And it was good. Oh my lord it was good. We went out to eat first, and I had a couple brews, and got nicely buzzed, and I'm 90% sure I was bein hit on pretty strong by our server. Plus all the girls told me I was. It was so funny. Our server always made sure I had a drink in my hand (which isn't easy since when I drink anything, it tends to disappear pretty fast), and was brushing against me every time *they* were near-coming to our table or not. And then when I switched to water *they* made a comment bout "Don't your gums start tingling when you drink these?" and something else that I can't remember but made my table laugh, then brought my water with lemon. Oh that's right. And I just sat there giggling like a fool.
Then we hit the club. I've been to this club with StapleGun and her girls once before (I don't go clubbin. Mainly cuz my regular posse isn't down. They do house-parties. Which I'm not down with anymore.) and it was alright. I was the DD last time so it was interesting. But this time, as a trash-fest, it was in-fuckin-credible. And one of the bartenders was such a cutie. And they were my bartender. Oh Friday was a good night. It was the night of Kay. Everything was goin my way. I may have smacked a few asses, danced a lil bit with some people, and just buzzed the night away. I'm real familiar with the bathroom there, so if anyone needs to know where it is... I got ya covered. Though I felt like a total ass cuz StapleGun kept babysitting my trips to the bathroom. I don't like being an inconvenience, you know? We left way too soon, which is the way all good nights should go (it was actually 12 something). There may or may not be some landscaping somewhere in Sactown with my inner stomach contents on it. I thought it'd be a good idea to get rid of that before our hour-long car ride home. And when we finally got home, I had to pee so bad. Note to drunk girls everywhere, you may think there are going to be open gas stations, but there won't. Don't pass up that 24 hour grocery store cuz you think you can hold it. It will not be fun.
Oh my kiddies, a good time was had. Then I woke up at 9 the next morning (after arriving home at 1 or 2) to get some Christmas shopping done with my buddy Bow. I like kickin it with Bow, but I don't see her outside work much anymore. She's in the middle of some major moving bullshit (gettin her new house all built and meeting with all the people for her old house). And Hef is hangin with some of our other friends that I've kind of moved away from. See, me and Hef have this friend PJ who I've just noticed is a bit of a user. Cuz I've helped this fool out with everything from cleaning to baby-sitting to packing his shit up for his upcoming move. And I'm tired of it. I'm tired of being "Hey Kay, you have a truck right?" I'm tired of friends who say they owe you one but just keep owing you another, and another, and you finally wake up to the fact that it's not going to stop. I guess that's part of growing up. Or I'm just getting bitter. Hef has a little saying I'm starting to think is smart, "A lack of planning on your part doesn't constitute an emergency on my part."
Everyone and their mom has been calling me lately. I suppose I should be flattered and shit. But I'm not. I'm ducking and dodging their calls like an expert dodge-baller. Dodge, duck, dip, dive, and dodge. My mother's calling me every day. I don't need to talk to her that much. Seriously. We have nothing to day. But if I don't answer she calls again, and her voice-mails become more and more (...needy?) I know she's excited I'm coming home for Christmas soon, but damn, down girl. I have issues, I don't like spending a lot of time with my family. And I don't like being trapped. Going home is not easy for me, especially when I haven't got a vehicle. And she makes all these plans for me (for which I should be grateful, but like the little ass-wipe I am, I just feel more and more trapped) from plans for me to visit the High School (she works there) to work out the kinks of their video yearbook (they don't have a teacher anymore), to wanting me to speak to some of the middle school and high school students, to planning my visits to see my friends "You'll want to see H and BrandNewBaby for a day or so," to hanging with my lil bro and sis "JJ has from the 25th to when you leave off to hang with you and C will be around and will want to do something too." To even scheduling my hair appointment. I'm glad I have her and she loves me enough to try to keep me happy but please, it's choking me. I'm a fucking adult, but when I try to say this she get's all "Oh really? Honey (to my father) did you realize our little girl is an adult?" And then I hang up on her. I cannot take it. That woman stresses me out beyond all belief. And every year I vow I'm not going home, not going to put up with that again, but I can't take the guilt-trips so I always come back.
But I refuse to let her have my Thanksgivings or my New Years's. She can't ruin all my holidays. The last 3 years I haven't spent Thanksgiving or New Years at "home." I don't really do anything for New Years but unwind from Christmas. The Thanksgivings I've spent road-trippin the east coast with friends, with a best-friend's family, and most recently, with a work-friend and her 2 year old since her boyfriend's out of town (for 4 months. Shafttile.) And her little boy was sooooo cute. And she has a one year old cutie dog, and a brand new kitten. Probably my favorite Thanksgiving to date. It was very mellow, very laid back, no dressing up, I got to entertain a lil-man and help set up and clean up and just be stress-free.
This has really rambled, and I need to shower, so The End.