"I wanna have your babies, I see 'em springin' up like daisies."

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"You can dance, you can jive, having the time of your life."

I have a problem. A very large, embarrassing problem. I'm hoping that by publicly confessing my issue, it will help to curb my impulses.

Facts:
#1 I like to dance. A lot.
#2 I'm an awful dancer. I have great rhythm, I just can't seem to get it to transfer from my brain to my feet.
#3 I'm relatively shy. (Translated, I suffer from major anxiety, particularly when it comes to being publicly humiliated.)
#4 We have several large windows in our house that are facing the street. When lit up at night, you can see EVERYTHING that's happening in front of/around them.
#5 I am always listening to music, whether it be on the radio, my mp3 player, or simply the music in my head.

All of these things on their own don't pose much of a problem, but when combined, they create a monstrous predicament. Given my stupid anxiety, I have a lot of pent up dancexual energy. My only outlet for cutting a rug is my house, so when the groove hits, I have to dance. There's no thought behind it, I just move. Every. single. time. this occurs, I happen to be in front of one of the big lit up windows. And 90% of the time that happens, a car seems to be driving by at the exact moment. And 50% of the time a car drives by, it's one of our local police. Our town (village, actually) has a total of four or five active police officers, with only two of them ever working the night shift. That means that every time I bust a move and a cop catches me, there's a 50% chance that it's the same guy. I don't like my odds.

I just found this quote while trying to find a picture of odds. It kept showing up, so I'm taking it as a sign from God that I'm meant to be a dancer. Move over Heavy Vee,



there's a new awesomely bad dancer in town!

"No, not baby anymore. If I need you I'll just use your simple name."

The sister and the douchebag broke up! (Cue the Hallelujah Chorus.)

The thing about this idiot is that we really did like him. He was a bit of a brown noser, but all in all, we liked him. What we didn't like is how he treated her, and treat her well he did not. I won't get into specifics, but let's just say that he was a boozer, a user (...of her, not drugs.) and a loser.



He broke up with her Saturday night (for the third time) and she made a "public announcement" last night. Hopefully it will be for good this time, since she hasn't been distraught like she was in the past. In fact, DB came over tonight to give the sister her spare key back. When she got back into the house mom asked if she was ok and she just kind of shrugged. Then she followed it up with "Well, whatever. His loss. I'm gonna go put on my footie pajamas."



Best breakup response EVER.

"OLL RAIGTH!"

I really have always wondered what English sounds like to other countries. Now I will wonder no more.

"I am a poster girl with no poster."

I recently rediscovered this song and fell head over heels in love. I can't. quit. listening. As much as I adore Ani Difranco, I have to give it up to Alana Davis. This cover kills the original.


32 Flavors, you are my new theme song. I feel like Ani Difranco went into the future, got inside my 25 year old head, went back to 1995 and wrote this incredible song. Then, two years later, Alana Davis came along and showed Ani what was up. Thirteen years later and  I am a happy, happy girl. Thanks, ladies. (I may have to start attending Over-Listener's Anonymous, though.)

"Will you ever use common sense? It comes pretty cheap."

A lot of things have been getting under my skin lately. Some might blame it on PMS,


but I like to blame it on the idiocy of others.


One of the main sources of my stress and irritation comes from my place of employment. Not the job itself, (it's fairly stress-free) but with the ignorance of the customers that I am frequently subjected to. When you work closely with the public you realize just how many people are actually lacking in the common sense department. I work at a drive-thru convenience store, where we also make pizzas. There is a display window in the drive-thru where we keep the pizza that we sell by the slice, and where we also keep our orders. Keep in mind that this window, and all of its contents, are clearly visible. On an average day, this is how a transaction might go down...

Me: "Hi."
Customer: "..."
Me: "What can I do for you?"
Customer: "... ...I had a pizza order."
Me: "What was the name on it?"
My Internal Monologue: "There are four pizza boxes in the window! Who do I look like, Miss Cleo?! I CAN'T READ YOUR MIND!"



The following is an actual conversation that I had with an elderly gentleman customer...

Customer: "Give me a case of Busch Light."
Me: "Okay, It's going to be $21.20."
Customer: "How much?"
Me: "$21.20."
Customer: "How much?"
Me, louder: "$21.20."
Customer: "You don't have to raise your voice!"
My Inner Monologue: "Um, clearly I do when I have to tell you THREE FREAKING TIMES what the total is!"

And one more actual conversation, had between a coworker and one "extra special" customer...

Customer, while staring at our display case that houses every type of Arizona we sell: "I'll have an Arizona."
Coworker: "Which kind?"
Customer: "Arizona."
Coworker: "Which kind? We have like 20 different flavors."
Customer: "ARIZONA!"

So as you can see, a lot of the customers that we deal with aren't playing with a full deck. Isolated incidents can be funny, but when it happens every day, several times a day, any hilarity that may have ensued is lost. Maybe this is a lesson from the Lord in appreciating the things that He's blessed me with. I just wish that I could learn it in a way that wasn't so exasperating. *sigh*

"With my feet on the dash, the world doesn't matter."

I sold my van (No, I'm not a soccer mom.) today. Peace out, Sandy.

Since my job sucks and I don't get any hours, which equals no money, I haven't been able to drive my van since spring. The lack of money meant not being able to pay for insurance and tags. It's sucked. I LOVE to drive. Luckily, my cousin and her husband were gracious enough to let me store the ol' gal out at his shop. A few weeks ago, "D" went to move the van  to mow where it had been sitting, and found that it wouldn't start. The battery was dead, but when he hooked the van up to the computer about 5 million things that were wrong with the engine also showed up. Basically, I was screwed. On top of trying to save money to get tags and to be able to pay for insurance, I was now going to have to save up to fix the umpteen things that were wrong. And truthfully, it wasn't even worth it.

I've been putting off going out to clean all of my crap out of it (I used my van as a closet, garbage can, CD/DVD rack, etc... It kind of looked like this.) until today when the cousin let me know that their truck officially took a crap and she wanted to buy Sandy. I had been planning on taking it to the junk yard, but it's now going to good use, plus they gave me $100 more than the junk yard would have. A win/win situation, really. Except for the fact that I am that much further away from ever owning a vehicle again.
After replacing the battery and getting the beast up and running again tonight, "D" brought it over so I could clean all of my junk, and not-junk, out of it. As I approached the giant heap of metal I actually started to get a little verklempt.



I've had so many memorable moments in that thing (late night fast food trips, aimlessly driving for hours, driving over 45 miles just to spend a few hours with my best friend, beach trips, helping move a friend to Kansas...) and the thought of not being able to make more is a bit sad for me. Then I had a moment of clarity and realized that making more memories such as the aforementioned would mean having friends like the ones I had when those were made. And that, my dears, is something that I never want to endure again for the rest of my life.

I was attempting to share my life with people who hold very different morals (or lack thereof) as I do, and that just can't ever work out. Long story short, I had a blow up with the queen bee of our group, and everyone else kind of followed her lead. I was ostracized, but it was for the best. I quit doing the things I knew I shouldn't have been doing, and consequently strengthened my relationship with the Lord. I know that I am not perfect, nor will I ever be, but I can be released from the pressure of trying to live a double life that I knew I shouldn't have been living. It felt like a 1,000 pound weight had been lifted from my shoulders. Of course, there has been quite a few downfalls to losing most of your friends. I don't do much of anything, other than watch TV, listen to music, surf the web, and go to work. It's quite depressing, and it's definitely time to change that.

In getting rid of the van tonight, I feel like I was putting the final piece of the letting-go puzzle into place. All of the memories that I associate with that heap are leaving along with it. I'm starting a  new chapter in my new life. A new-new beginning.

So now I can quit being Emo Stacey,


and start being more of a "Woo hoo, I appreciate life!" kind of Stacey.


It's only for the good of mankind.