The New England Society for Tea Fetishism

My creative writing exercise is now complete and in the mail on its way to the lovely Ms. Amy Thompson. Now that I think about it, it's rather like the Kids in the Hall's "Night of the Cow," or whatever that was, although without the humorous rooster. Also, just because I thought of it right now--"He's havin' some difficulty gettin' the salt."

These goods are taken--anonymous**

**ask me later

I miss the Mom. She always surprises me, mostly with her taste in popular entertainment. When she busted out along with the AC/DC in the car, that wasn't so shocking. Actually it was quite fun and unexpected, and gave me my daily reminder that yes, indeed, my mother is a real person. I love that she watches the Osbornes and listens to songs from the Bloodhound Gang that have words like "vagina" and lines like a "lap dance is always better when the stripper is crying" in them. I love that she used to watch My So Called Life and Dawson's Creek and reruns of Beverly Hills, 90210. I love that she always points out the more revealing, slightly slutty clothes when we shop together because as she says, "If I were your size, that's what I'd be wearing." I love that she looks at me on the last day of vacation and says stuff like "I feel like I'm sending you off to college for the first time again." Yup. I miss my Mom.

"Dirty deeds and they're done dirt cheap."--Sarah's Mom

One of the security guards is way interested in TEA. Tres bizarre. Expect him to show up at our first meeting.

I heart obnoxious reggae pounding through my ceiling

And Russell thought he was corrupting me by bringing me to a bar. You know how he really corrupted me? He brought me to lazer tag. The three Fridays we went to the bar we went to lazer tag first. When he took me to that organic juice bar in Beverly we went to lazer tag after. Last night, I took my father and two ten-year-old boys to lazer tag. Help me, oh please, help me, I am addicted. And the really sad thing is that I'm getting good at it. I can discuss technique with people. The only good thing to come out of this is my codename--or maybe not, considering I now have a codename--which is Yogurt. When you hit people your codename comes up on a tiny screen on the back of the lazer so they know who shot them. Only those of you who are familiar with the movie Spaceballs can imagine the juvenile satisfaction of hearing random people yelling "Yogurt! I hate Yogurt!"

Ain't nobody dope as me I'm just so fresh and clean.
Something like that. Yay!!! I took a shower! Life is good, and so is the plumbing.

Day three:
Yikes man, yikes. We're past the 48th hour without a shower. My hair is standing on end and threatening to become more interesting than me. Soon it will become its own organism, independent from myself, and it will get up and walk away in search of freely running water. It smells like low tide down here. The plumbers were supposed to come at 8:30. It is now past 11:00. If this goes on another day I am calling Tracy to ask if I can shower at her house. We had a good time the other night. After we checked out the end of the DDR tournament we went to Denny's until after midnight and made each other laugh until our stomachs hurt. Russell called last night and said he was bored out of his gourd so we talked for about an hour on such subjects as tv programming, different words for the bathroom and the appropriateness of those terms in polite society, and the types of bullshit that "grown ups" force onto children. I would have offered to go out on the town if I had not been one of the unwashed masses. Today's the day kids, keep your fingers and toes crossed! The pipes will be unblocked and I will be squeaky clean by tonight (oh please oh please oh please oh please oh please)

What do you get when you decide to be good to your body and drink the recommended and impossibly large amount of water that all those doctors tell you to drink? Your plumbing goes to hell. When the toilet upstairs is flushed a flood of water and whatever you just put in the toilet comes flowing into the basement. Ohhhhhh, dear God, a house with no usable toilets. It's truly my worst nightmare. I swear I've had dreams like this. My mom told me to use the toilet in the basement and not to flush too much. How do I "not flush too much?" Aw, geez.

Disaster! Flood! Pestilence! More to come......

I forgot to tell you about my dream. I was in a hospital and I had a baby. The nurse asked me who the father was and of all the men in all of the world my subconscious drags up Ryan Phillipe. Yes, the actor. No, I don't know why. Apparently someone named the baby Samantha when I wasn't paying attention and I wasn't happy. Maybe it was Ryan, who I don't think made an actual appearance in the dream. Surprisingly, most of the dream was not about the baby but the hospital and the fact that I kept going to sleep and waking up in different rooms. And, of course, it eventually degenerated into Sarah's "Never-Ending Search for a Bathroom" dream.

Once again, another wild night of lazer tag and drunken dancing with Russell and Kimmy. Oh, will the debauchery ever stop? I mean, will the debauchery ever start? I have discovered my limit--two Smirnoff's. That's it ladies and gentlemen, she's had enough, one more and she might.......fall asleep. I am so not a drinker. Russell said something about how he's corrupting me. Smile and nod, people, smile and nod. I told him my "Bad College Student" story.
It is very cold in my basement and I am barefoot and still in my nightshirt. And every few seconds there's this noise that sounds like a cross between a fog horn and the noise you make when you blow across the top of a bottle. Hmmmm... Today I am going to see the movie Narc with my dad. Cops and guns and blood and violence. And probably a lot of cursing. Just what he likes. And then it's straight home for dinner with Nana. We'll be eating lots of soft foods like fish and mashed potatoes. Hopefully she will go home early so I can go hang with Miss Nash for a while. I will pray for her today. At the Lazer Quest place they're having a Dance Dance Revolution tournament to which her boyfriend will drag her unwillingly. For those of you who are not aware, DDR is a video game in which you stomp on a pad according to the arrows on a screen and it is set to music. Tracy's life consists of taking her boyfriend, her boyfriend's little brother, and whoever else can fit into her car, over to Lazer Quest, and watching them play this game for hours at a time. And then the boys, most of them at the height of puberty and very sweaty, all pack into her car and home they go. Such is life.

Okay, the department thing is getting a little hard to keep doing. I had a lovely day with Miss Tracy. We went to Borders and had cafe goodies, looked at all kinds of silly calenders, and perused the Stephen King section. Yes, I was sure that my Stephen King phase had passed, and here she has me reading 1100 pages of It. I think it's only fair that she reciprocate and read the Dead Zone like I've been telling her to for the past year. Great book, kids, you should really check it out. I bought two cds, but it was my dad's money so it's okay. I now have The White Stripes, and since my soul is aching for the new Radiohead album and can't wait another moment, I got the next best thing, which happens to be a string quartet version of Ok Computer. Alas, I now inhabit the dusky depths of Radiohead obsession.

From the "Ya cahn't get theyah from heeyah" department:
Yay!! I'm in Maine, and I'm full of veggie crumbles and cookies. Life is good. Also, I have a really cool scarf to wear indoors. Let's see how long Annie and Amy can stand seeing me wrapped up like a Christmas gift.

From the "hysterectomy now!" department:
Happy New Year! I did nothing. Want to know why? Yesterday morning around 10:30, I was stricken with possibly the most excruciating cramps I've ever had in my entire life. No one was home. I would have called 911 if I could have gotten out of bed. Everything felt awful from my head down to my freezing toes. The percocets were on my bureau and I would have taken one except that I had already taken two motrin an hour before and I wasn't sure about drug interactions. Although, a coma did sound really great at the time. It lasted about an hour and a half, and the rest of the day I was very content to sit very still on the couch with a pillow and read.
Better news: I have FX! Hooray for Buffy marathons!