hypothetically speaking

but i’m still taking my pills

I was driving home from work yesterday when I saw a man in the far right lane of the highway riding a motorcycle without a helmet talking on his cell phone.  It made me laugh.  I guess I laughed because I initially thought, “How dangerous is that?” and then I was immediately trying to figure out what he must be discussing on his phone:

“No!  I think I’m lost!  Didn’t you say the Puff Daddy video was being shot in Austin?  I’m just driving around this highway and it doesn’t look blocked off to me.  Where’s Mariah?  What?  Austin!  Austin!  What?  BOSton?  I’m supposed to be in Boston?  Shit.”

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zzzz

talking in our sleep

I feel absolutely terrible today.  My face is all puffy, my head is stuffed up.  My voice is all rough.  My throat hurts.  I was up late last night feeling sorry for myself and not making things any better.

What is it that compels me to blame other people for my own insecurities?  I don’t know.  I really don’t.

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loop de love

longing to be amusement park trash

I was reading Love, Curiosity, Freckles and Doubt this morning and she was talking about roller coasters.  I love roller coasters.  I really do.  I love amusement parks.  I love everything about them.  I love getting my scaredy-cat friends on roller coasters.  Having moved around so much as a kid I’ve been to many different amusement parks.

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ring, ring

why this entry will be short

Eric’s phone has its own ring.  We really only have one phone, but when Eric moved in he didn’t want to lose his phone number,  because “that’s how everyone knows how to reach him.”  I think it’s his way of holding on to the last parts of his single life.  In case one day some redhead is cleaning out her wallet and finds some phone number on the back of a receipt and thinks to herself, “Oh, here’s that number of that guy I always wanted to go out with…”

In any event, his old phone number now just goes straight to our phone.

In the time that it took for me to write the above paragraph, his phone line has rung twice.

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concept piece

why we’re brilliant

Eric has come up with a new pill that you can take to get you out of uncomfortable situations with your significant other.   The concept of the pill is that as soon as you say something that you shouldn’t have, or you dig yourself in a hole, your body instantly shuts itself down and puts you to sleep:

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needing some neosporin

martha stewart, i’m not

We got new sheets this weekend.

I was tired of flannel sheets.  I was tired of the way they collected hair and lint and fur and little bits of black things that I didn’t want to reflect on.  I was tired of sweating during my naps.  I was tired of feeling like I slept in one giant wooby.  So I went and bought new cotton sheets before the summer hit.  I bought nice white sheets, with what Eric assured me was a good thread count (hell, I don’t know…)

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pamieamory

why i have to stick to just one man

I was interviewed for the local paper yesterday afternoon about Squishy.  So, this Saturday there should be an article about… me and why I write this journal.  And of course now that hours have gone by since the interview I’m thinking to myself, “Did I say the right things?”

One question he asked me was one I’ve never even addressed here:  Why is this site called “Squishy?”

If you’re curious…

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the rules

the way it should be

I’m very excited about Birthday Week.

Eric has extended my birthday into a week long event.  It started with a surprise party the night before my birthday, and has continued on into this morning, when I found that he had cleaned my car and gotten my oil changed, and I can only assume it will continue on until this Sunday.

I tell you, there’s nothing better than being all grumpy on your way to the car and then finding a present on your front seat.

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