Oy Vey - what a weekend.... NEVER been so glad to see Monday get here!

So, after my slow start out on Saturday (see this post if you really have NOTHING BETTER to do) I finally got my butt out of the house to run some errands and try to hit a few garage sales (the ones that didn't close because of the rain.)

I was actually in a pretty good mood, starting out... The sun did come out and it looked like it could be a nice day. So I hopped in my car and headed out. I first had to go to the dog pound - and this is where it all went downhill.

You see, Friday night my nephew's dog (which he acquired through a "friend" - at least that's the story we got) went missing. And said dog had been living with my nephew in my parents house (long, annoying story about his living conditions - so I won't even go there) for about a week or so - it's been less than a month. Anyway - this dog - "Powder" was a Pit Bull. At least we think that - I honestly don't think it was a pure pit - but who knows? I'm thinking that if it was PURE PIT - whoever had it before would have kept her - I mean even for the most horrible reasons - like to fight her or at least to breed her. But anyway, he had this dog at my parents house. They already had 2 dogs so this was not a good situation to begin with.

But, it turns out that this dog was a really, really nice dog. She was well behaved (for being bounced around like she had been - she listened well and truly was a nice dog.) Don't believe me? My LAB puppy (you know, labs - they're supposed to be the NICEST dogs?) well, my lab BIT this "pit bull" in the face - and while she did defend herself - it was MY nice LAB that started the fight and continued the fight. Powder, once told to back off, did. Unlike my NICE Lab. This "fight" was nothing more than a couple of dogs having a power struggle and we just ended up separating my puppy from Powder because she got along well with all the other dogs. MINE was the bitch. (Imagine that)

Ok, back to the story of this weekend. So Powder - got lose from my parents house. She found a spot in the fence that she could push up and got out. (see? she didn't even DIG) And, well the first time she did that (I think it was Monday) they were able to get her back. Actually a neighbor brought her home -because get this - she saw the neighbor walking HIS dog, so Powder just went on their walk with them!! Again - nice and a TRAINED dog. My dog DAISY? Yeah, she would have been soooooooooo gone it's not even funny. Powder (the big bad mean pit bull - ha ha) befriended a stranger and his dog and joined them on their walk. Powder should be the POSTER Dog for all pitties!!

That was Monday - come Friday, Powder got out again - (yes, they should have chained her - we have gone over all the should haves and could haves this whole weekend) and unfortunately she didn't come home Friday night. My nephew looked for hours - I went out there that night and drove around. Nothing - she didn't turn up on Saturday morning. So that's what took me to the pound.

I got there and of course they had her. And this is the part that really pisses me off. At everyone - the laws about pitts, my nephew for bringing this dog into the house and our lives, my mom and dad for letting him do it - not laying down stricter rules for my immature nephew. (who is over 21 years old - so it's not like he's 10 or something - he should know better.)

Anyway - the dog was picked up Friday afternoon by the pound. She wasn't hurt or hit by a car or anything - thank GOD. And she didn't hurt anyone or bite anyone - PRAISE JESUS. But, she was deemed a Pit Bull and would now have to be registered as a Pit and I believe that my nephew will have some fines to deal with because he didn't originally register the dog. But, please - how many people rush right down to the pound or where ever and get licenses for stray dogs that they find or take in? I never have. Once I've decided to keep the dog - I've then gotten them licensed. So, I'm thinking that a low percentage of people actually run right out and license and/or register strays. Don't even get me started on cats.

Now, this poor dog is going to be put down all because of it's breed. Not because SHE's a bad dog. It's because of the breed. That just SUCKS!! I think we (well, my nephew) could have gotten her back - but he'd have to register her as a dangerous dog (yeah right - she befriended a strange person and another dog and joined them on their walk - yup - total definition of a DANGEROUS dog.) And then, there's the task of getting or keeping my parents home owners insurance. I'm just sick about it all. And that's why I'm pissed. It's not even MY dog. My nephew brought this dog home and I met it like once or twice - but being the crazy dog lady dog lover I am, I'm heartbroken that this good, nice, sweet, loving dog is going to be killed - probably as I'm typing this.

The only thing that is keeping me somewhat calm is that at least I know what has become of her. She isn't being used in a fighting ring. She isn't suffering (well.. I won't go there) because she got hit by a car or being mistreated my some cruel person.

But she's going to lose her life because of some stupid rule. There are plenty of other dangerous dogs out there. Dalmatians are mean, obviously labs (my precious pup) can be mean, LOTS of dogs CAN be mean. But because she's "deemed" pit - she's automatically a risk. If she was a lab mix - she'd be at home (on a chain -since she's a runner) and enjoying a nice sunny day.

So, this post is dedicated to the LOVING AND PRECIOUS Powder. I wish I had the money and power to fight for you... hopefully in your last days (minus this weekend) you found peace and happiness as every good dog deserves. Correction - as EVERY DOG/Animal deserves.

This and that...

It's pouring rain outside right now which has really fucked mucked up my plans of driving around with the top down (on the car) in search of garage sales. I've been pretty good this summer - haven't hit many sales (still unemployed right now) and honestly I just don't want more junk in my house. But a couple of weeks ago, my mom and I spent a Saturday in the convertible, got some sun and great deals. I got a couple new (to me) books - and my mom got a bunch of new baby clothes for the grand kiddies - that seem to be at EVERY garage sale.

But since it's raining I have to come up with a plan B.

Oh, I also CAN'T WALK THE DOGS in this weather. Although, I think they'd be FINE walking in the rain - but to go outside and do their business? Ummm.. 'no mom, I can't get my fur wet' is the response I seem to get from them. Whatever... Diva Dogs. Honestly, I can't blame them - I don't even want to go out and I can use an umbrella - so really? They come by this behavior naturally. Shut up now, Dave.

So, as I sit here trying to come up with plan B; clean the house? NO. (I have next week to do that - unemployment CAN have it's benefits.)
Clean my room? NOPE - Unemployment or not -I don't foresee that happening anytime soon.
Eat - Check. (I'm bored - what can I say?)
Call best friend who's on vacay? - Got voice mail. - so not the same when you have scoop.
Do some CRACK FACE BOOKING - find out that one of my "Scott's" (see THIS post) is moving to TEXAS!!
Call best friend again - DAMN YOU VOICE MAIL!!!

Yes, the ORIGINAL Scott is moving to Texas! (Well, technically he's not the Original - but he's the first of the 5 Scott's that I slept with.) But anyway.... And, OK, I don't even see/talk (except on FB) to him anymore. And, he's married with kids, but still, he's moving? To TEXAS? I mean, like that's, REALLY far away!! It's not like he's moving to another city within this state, (where I COULD- IF I WANTED to, STALK HIM) but noooooooooooo he's moving to TEXAS!!

As I said, I don't even see Scott any more, or (really) have feelings for him but it's like the end of something - what I don't know, but whatever it is, it's coming to an end. I actually found his post yesterday that said he was Texas bound, blah blah blah. Something about his Bitch I mean, wife getting a promotion. It's all her fault. (yes, I'm 12)

So of course, I commented on his page and was all "what's in Texas?" oh, and "travel safe" (hoping that this was just some sort of vacation/trip) And all of his other FB friends did the same thing too - so I'm not THAT much of a stalker) and all he said to me was that, and I quote: "wife got a promotion." See? It IS the wife's fault!

I don't even know why this is, um, upsetting? I don't think that's the right word. Maybe unsettling is better. But like I said before, I don't see him or talk with him, but I guess this is just the end of something. Another person/thing that has moved on from my life. Uggghhh. I so badly want this year to be O V E R. Nothing good has come of this year. Well, at least not yet. Maybe all these changes are leading up to something grand? (doubt it) but I'll remain hopeful since I really don't have any other alternative.

So that's all for now - I need to go to SOMETHING. It's almost 1pm and I'm still in my PJ's - Wrong? Maybe. But I did shower - I just haven't finished what I started. Which in a nutshell is my life.

Run Shopgirl Run!

That's right - you heard read correctly. The Shopgirl RAN. Not for her life. Not for a Twinkie, not even for a sale rack. She just ran. But, unlike Forrest Gump, I didn't just run and run and run. I only ran for about 20 minutes today. But still, I RAN people!!

For those of you that know me. You KNOW I don't RUN. For. Anything. Ever. Even when I played Softball back in school (I played for 10 years) I didn't run - I was the catcher - pretty much so I could basically SIT behind the plate. (I COULD and DID throw the ball to 2nd base with little effort and my favorite thing in the whole wide world back then? Stopping ANY BITCH that tried to get past home plate.) But running bases? Nah... I made sure I hit that ball far far away - so I didn't have to hustle to first or second base. I just never got into running. My friends ran track and cross country back then -but I always had (and still do even after the reduction) big ta-ta's, so running? Pretty much out of the question.

I've always envied runners. Most of them make it look like it's so much fun and effortless. I mean - look - I just typed the word "runner" in my search bar and this is the image that came up:

Look how peace-ful or tranquil she looks. Runners also get to wear the cute running pants and tops - and a fun and bright colored sports tank or even bra because her body/torso are so fit and firm. I mean NIKE, ADDIDAS, SAUCONY and NEW BALANCE were all INVENTED for runner’s right? (C’mon – what did you expect from me, SHOPGIRL – you KNEW it was going to be about the outfit right??) Ok, back to runners - you see them everywhere, on vacation - uggh running on the beach. And you bet your ASS they're thighs aren't rubbing together so badly that they're not only getting chaffed but possibly a small fire breaking out between their thunder thighs. No, THEY'RE thighs probably don't even TOUCH - much less MOLEST each other the way mine do when running (or walking or standing still, or well, you get the picture.)

On my lunch break at the old job, I'd pass all the runners and think to myself – ‘I should give running a try - it might clear my head and reduce some of the stress I'm feeling here.’ I thought about that every day, pulling out of the office and on my way to Chipotle or Panera for my 1000+ calorie lunch. An hour later, I'd roll myself back to my desk in a Mexican/carb induced coma and think "tomorrow - tomorrow I'll work out.” Of course that never happened and I have the extra 30 pounds to prove it.

But you see, (here come the excuses) the problem - besides trying to move 100+++++ pounds at a quick-ish speed - is that I don't look like the tranquil runner losing herself in her own thoughts, clearing her head of the days events, brainstorming for a better way to solve the current crisis back at her desk. No, instead I look like an escaped mental patient not running, but thudding along, while flailing my arms in what would appear to be some psychotic episode, gasping and wheezing for my next breath. Instead of cute jogging pants I'd have plain running pants (no cute patterned ones for me - since they don't come in my size) and an oversized t-shirt to conceal my flabby (instead of toned) torso. The only thing brightly colored on ME would be my FACE. It would be twenty seven shades of red and I'm sure people who passed ME on the side of the road, would consider dialing 911 before they ever thought that what I was doing was meant to be an exercise of mental release.

And now that brings me to here, today. At XXX pounds (so. Not. Telling. So don’t even ask) I, Shopgirl aka Thunder Thighs, just ran. And I didn’t die! I didn’t look cute either, but I didn’t die and I didn’t quit. Let me tell you this, there is NOTHING tranquil about running. Nothing. I’ll say it again – just incase you didn’t fully comprehend that. There is NOTHING tranquil about running. Well, at least DURING the running part. I did feel great and even a couple hours later – still do! Like I’ve said before – I’ve always envied runners and have always wanted to run in a marathon (ok a short one) but still, I wanted to do it. And I don’t want to walk it. I want to run (most of) it. So, one night I was on CrackFacebook and saw that a friend of mine from high school posted that she just completed her first run. Being the noseyinquisitive mind that I am, I commented on her status and found out that she is trying The Couch to 5K Running Plan. (I’m not advocating this plan – nor am I getting paid for doing it, so if you’re interested in it – look it up.) After reviewing it - which it isn’t anything really all that new, I’ve seen similar plans in Health magazines before; I decided to give it a try. That was last week (or maybe two weeks ago). What? I procrastinate – deal.

So, I finally got myself up this am and decided to go for my first run. My friend is a week ahead of me (yes, I know we could have run together and motivated each other and yada yada yada – shut up.) and she told me that on her 3^rd day of the plan she didn’t feel so winded and was actually looking forward to her second week. (We’ll see how that goes for me) She gave me a few tips and last night I charged my iPod and figured out how to use the Stopwatch function. Who knew that my iPod had a stopwatch? I didn’t, that’s fo sure! And this morning I got myself dressed in my boring black Capri length running pants and XXL Blue T-shirt (it WAS a Tommy Hilfiger – had to throw in SOME cuteness) and headed to the park to try out this running thing. What? You thought I’d just run in my neighborhood on the sidewalk? Pfft! My neighbors already think I’m a dork – I don’t need them seeing me trying to RUN.

So stay tuned to find out if I go for my second run on Sunday. According to the “Plan” (which is 9 weeks long) I’m supposed to give myself a rest day in between runs. And since I’m ALL ABOUT following rules, I’m going to rest as I’m told. Now, if I only had a job, I could use my “rest day” to go out and buy cute running shoes (Nike and iPod have this combo stopwatch/trainer thingy that I MUST have.) and a cute little outfit/cap-visor/new sunglasses (you know, for the sun glare on the running path) and a new water bottle for all the H2O I’m going to be drinking. Stimulate the economy indeed. Would somebody hurry up and hire me already? I’ve got 6 months of shopping to catch up on.

See you in two days!

Breaking news.....

June 24th, 10:30am - location: shopgirl's hood.

This just in....
5 pound "wanna be dog" narrowly misses death by one 70lb and one 30lb "real dogs" because "purse dog's" owner allowed her to run free into the road with no care at all about stupid insignificant dog. As the real dogs owners controlled them, purse dog continued to run towards her imminent death as her owner leisurely strolled over to gather her dog.

Ok - so I'm not a journalist and my play by play needs some work, but here's what went down. I'm walking my dogs - minding our own business, and they're actually being really good (shocker - even to ME). When all of a sudden I hear someone calling out to their dog and I use the word "dog" losely because what it really is, is a 5 lb- good for nothing-except to look cute in a dog purse - but even then - just fucking ri-god-damn-diculous to have such a small effing dog - dog. But whatever.

Anyway - this "dog" comes running towards my 70 and 30 lb dogs and as I try to controll my dogs and tell them that this is NOT a squeaker toy or a snack, the other dogs owner? Does. Nothing!!!

They finally get their dog back into their yard - ok I thought - wrong. The effing dog comes back!! Now my dogs are like - "it's on... like Donkey Kong..." and I'm trying to hold back 100 pounds of dogs that want to rip this "dog" to shreds and the the owner? Casually. strolls. over. calmly saying.....c'mon Toby (or whatever the fuck this dogs name was). All the while, my dogs are salivating more than Pavlov's dog ever did. Ummm.. Stupid C-U-Next Tuesday bitch? Your dog? about to die if you don't move your fucking ass a little quicker. And my dogs? will probably get the death penalty because of it and then? Yeah, it WILL BE ON - LIKE DONKEY KONG. UGGGHHHH.. People - there are fucking LEASH Laws for a REASON!!! Keep your dog - no matter how small or big - on a fucking LEASH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

So much for a peaceful start to my day!!

I think I can. I think I can. I think I can.

Hmmm... I think I can remember how to write a post and then update my blog. Hmmm... ok, easy does it.. I type in my blog address in the address bar.... http://missdaisydog.blogspot.com.... ok.... slowly... here we go... phew! It's still up and running - even though I haven't posted or barely commented on anyone else’s' blog in like for-freaking-ever. Ok... click on "new post" - whoa! That's A LOT of BLANK space staring back at me waiting for words or even just a few taps of they keypad to state something, ANYTHING that has been on my mind lately. .............................................................









hmmmm.................. what. is. on. my. mind?











yup... that's pretty much it.......... a whole lotta B L A N K



But yet there is, as Dave Matthews so eloquently put it back in 1996, So Much To Say. (Seriously, it was 1996 Yes. it. was - I just googled it and it's now playing on my computer) Where has 13 years gone? Anyhoodle - as Mr. Matthews put it:

A year of crying and the words creep up inside
Creep into mind yeah
So much to say, so much to say, so much to say, so much to say
So much to say, so much to say, so much to say, so much to say
Here we have been standing for a long long time
Treading trodden trails for a long long time

I find sometimes its easy to be myself
Sometimes I find better to be somebody else

There is so much to say and so much to talk about yet I can't seem to get it all out. It hasn't been a year, but it sure feels like that long - being unemployed has certainly taken me for a wild - yet uneventful - ride. I'm so lost right now without my job and I'm at odds with myself for that very statement, because I really didn't like my job - at least not for the last year. Sure, there were parts (the people mostly) that I liked. The traveling - that was great - California a couple times a year (and Southern Cal at that) and then the East Coast - but I struggled to even stay at that job for the past year. I looked for a new job even more so than I am right now, but I was just to chicken to up and leave. And now, here I am, wish granted; summer off and not working at a job that I don’t like, and I’m lost.

The thing about my unemployment is this: now that I have all this "free time" on my hands? It's getting me no where - literally. I mean, I do NOTHING all DAMN day. Sure, I walk my dogs (that's the ONLY CONSTANT in my life right now) Everyday we walk. I mix it up sometimes, 3-4 miles one day and then maybe just a 1/2 - 1 mile around the 'hood. And that equates to the sum total of my day. I have no money right now (to spend on anything but the BARE NECESSATIES) so I don't shop. Even when I had my severance I didn't shop (ok - a whole lot) because I was trying to pay a bunch of stuff off - hoping that I'd be back to work before it ran out. Nope. That didn't happen.

Now I wish I would have spent some more of my severance on ME. I wish I would have gone on that vacation to Ireland I was thinking about or at the very LEAST - gone to FL and stayed with my sis for a couple of weeks. Who wants to go to Florida now, in the summer? It's like 150 degrees there now. I'd fucking explode from the heat! Uggh.. And the bugs? No thanks. I should've said "fuck looking for a job that doesn't exist in OH" and went to Florida in February when it was 70-80 degrees there and 2 fucking degrees here.

I'm pissed. At myself. For not doing that. Now, here it is - 6 months since the "massive layoff" and I'm still in my house. Doing nothing.

I used to think I wanted to have summers off and that I’d do all this “stuff” with my free time. You know what? I’m soooo not that girl. I don’t have a plan. I don’t have a schedule. And even when I do have a schedule, I rarely follow it. Something will be on TV. or someone will call or I’ll take a 4 hour nap (I’m not lying about this one.) and then all of a sudden Monday turns into Thursday and January is all of a sudden June.

Ok - I do have to interject here - I have done stuff. I've worked on my house - planted flowers, re-arranged the furniture in every room and in general just done "house stuff." I also volunteered at my church during Bible School. This solidified my choice of never - EVER - wanting to have children, much less more than one. (I do like kids - I just don't want any.) Some people don't want a dog... I don't want kids. But it was fun none-the-less. And, I learned A LOT about the women AND men in my church. Vibrators, honeymoon tapes and drunkeness oh my!

But, I still feel like such a failure for not having a job right now. I mean, I’ve been working since I was 14 years old. Ok, it was babysitting – but I babysat every day after school until I turned 15, when I could become a lifeguard and earn a real paycheck (and meet hot guys in bathing suits– who am I kidding – that’s why I took THAT job) where they took things like FICA and SS out of that paycheck. As soon as I was able to drive I had myself a job at the mall or anywhere else that I could get a paycheck every Friday.

It’s something that I’ve done for over 20 years and I’ve realized that it wasn’t the JOB that I went to everyday. I couldn’t have given a S#!T about my “career," it was the people and the gossip or whatever was going on that got me up everyday and into the office. I also just happened to be really good at whatever job I did so I usually stayed at said job until something better (read: more fun and more money) came along.

Now, I have two dogs that I spend every. waking. (and sleeping.) minute with. Do you know what kind of “scoop” you get with two dogs? None? NOPE. You get the POOPER Scoop kind. Seriously, I get the “shit” all day long from these two. Yeah, I know it’s not funny. It's not SUPPOSED to be funny. It’s pathetic.

I also had this grandiose idea that I’d become this FANTASTIC writer and somehow be DISCOVERED while I was out of work. You know what? You ACTUALLY HAVE TO WRITE in order to be discovered. And I have nothing (or at least the will) to write about! I used to write about all the crazy resumes I reviewed that day. Or all the crazy people that I’ve interviewed. Now the only interaction I have is with two dogs and while I love them very much (shut up Dave, I do love her!) there really isn’t much to write about.

Well, except this: Last night I discovered what looked like a ZIT on my little Miss Sassafras -my new-ish puppy. So, being the zit-picker/poker that I am, I POPPED Sassy’s Zit. Yes, my evenings now consist of watching (and re-watching) the Real Housewives of New Jersey and popping my dogs zits. I. so. Need. To. Get. Back. To. Work. Because, really? I’m not thinking Random House Publishing or any other publishing house is going to come knocking to hear about the complexion dilemma of little Miss Sassafras.

They’re also, and I’m just guessing here, not interested in the following that occurred in my life today:

10am: 1^st call of the day from Dave to tell me he voted and to remind me to vote.

10:15am: Finally got my butt out of bed – what? Where do I need to be today?

10:17am: Let dogs out, made toast from left over Fathers day bread from Panera – YUM.

10:30am: Walk dogs

10:45am – Had fight/discussion with dogs that dead squirrel in road is not “snack” and I still can, and will feed them when we get home.

11:30am – back home, dogs fed and I’m off to vote against Mayoral Recall.

11:45am – in my car wondering why I wasted my time and how much of my tax money went into this vote to recall a Mayor that we (as a city) just voted IN. Seriously, this money? I’m thinking could go to jobs in this city to hmm, I don’t know, employ someone like me!!

11:50am – I’m hungry. Lunch at Subway. Can’t decide between sensible Turkey Sub or yummy higher calorie Spicy Italian Sub and decide to play nice and let person behind me go ahead of me.

11:55am – No good deed goes unpunished. Person behind me (now in front of me) orders lunch for her entire workforce – ummmm? Shouldn’t you have called that in?

12:30 (stomach has actually flipped inside out b/c I’m so hungry): order/pay for my Sammy and finally feeding my pie hole.

12:34pm – 2^nd call of the day from Dave. Yes. I. Voted.

12:35pm – Yes. I’m. Eating. No, the thought NEVER occurred to me to come to your office and go get YOU lunch.

1pm: Need grocery items – (and whatever else is on sale.)

1:20pm: realize I forgot my checkbook have to get money out of ATM and mad about stupid ATM fees from both bank and said ATM machine.

1:21pm: Think about getting my own ATM machine business.

1:22pm: Think this is too hard.

1:23pm: Pay for groceries – head home.

1:30pm – get home and realize I took too much money out of ATM – now have ATM fees AND possible overdraft charge. Grrrrrr.

1:35pm – SPEED to bank to put money back into account – cross fingers and pray cash credits account first.

2pm-5:50 – surf the internet. Send several text messages to friends begging to meet for drinks once they're done working.

5:51pm – Yippie! someone responded. Hopefully I'll have good "scoop" for blog fodder tomorrow…

stay tuned!

Oh - and Random House? Or any other Publishing house out there? I'm a MUCH better writer - feel free to send me an ADVANCE and I'll show you!

Oh John Hughes - how I love thee....

You are the master of teen angst. And for that, I heart you.

• Breakfast Club
• Ferris Bueller's Day Off
• Weird Science (LURVE LURVE LURVE Robert Downey Jr.)
• Sixteen Candles - Jake - need I say more?
• Planes, Trains and Automobiles - "that's not a pillow!" (ok - not a teen movie, but still hilarious!)
• Uncle Buck

and the best of all:

• Pretty in Pink - I heart BLANE - even if "it's not a name, it's an appliance."

Seriously, what's NOT to love about this movie? There's Molly Ringwald - who made all of us girls me in the late 80's bring out our inner designer and I'm pretty sure inspired the Madonna look - or maybe it was the other way around? I don't know which came first - but I was inspired by her that's for sure. I even made some of my own clothes in HS (even though I wasn't from "the wrong side of the tracks"), and unfortunately they didn't turn out as cool as hers.

Oh, how about the DUCKMAN? DUCKY - I mean, how cute and adoreable is he? And his undying love and somewhat stalker-ish obsession with our herion Andie? While today, it would probably earn him a restraining order, back then it was what every girl wanted - right? And, don't you just want to cry when he tells Andie to go after Blane? Seriously, this is the MAN. The Duckman. (bonus points if you remember his ACTUAL name in the movie.)

Ugghh, but for all of our love and adoration for Ducky - there's my repulsiveness and distain for Steff, Blane's friend portrayed by James Spader. Yecccchhhh.. I swear, it was this movie that has turned me off to him forever. Even though he's won accolades and awars for his role on "The Practice" I admit, I've never watched it because of my hate for Steff. Wrong? Maybe. But true.

As I sit here today, not looking for a job on the internet taking a break from CareerBuilder surfing, I can't help but smile as those two crazy kids, Blane and Andie, finally get together at the end of Prom. I still, to this day, want to be Andie and be at the Prom (in my very own designed/and made from my friends 20 year old dress and my dad's cheap prom dress) making out with Blane.

I so wanted to be Andie -not only because of her cool (hand-made) clothes, and the "I don't give a shit about the popular kids" attitude, but also - because she got to make out with the dreamy BLANE (Andrew McCarthey) in this movie. Ok, so BLANE is about the queerist (real word?) name in the whole wide world - but I would just call him B. or maybe he had a normal middle name? Whatever. I loved Blane - didn't you? I still heart him to this day. How excited was I to see him on Lipstick Jungle (sadly, now off the air.) looking as DREAMY and ironically, still a "richie?" Still. mad. that. it. was. cancelled.

Blane, er Andrew McCarthy, reminds me of this boy, Scott (*not his real name) that I was in love, love, love with in High School. (Co-incidence?) Unfortuanately, I didn't end up at Prom with Scott. Or anywhere else for that matter. Actually, I was the Duckman in THAT relationship. But I blame place responsibility of my crush on Scott to Andrew McCarthy. Oh, how I had the teen angst (and - ironically again, ongoing in my life - I mean, for reals, the guy keeps showing up in my life out of the blue all the time!!) for Scott.

I grew up with Scott - our last names were similar, so in the small school that I went to, Scott and I were always seated next to each other, in the same home rooms, if it was in alphabetical order - there we were - right next to each other. But, sadly, we just became friends. That's it. I mean, he HAD to know that I wanted it to be MORE than just friends? Right? See? I am the DUCKMAN in this scenario.

When he went off to college - which happened to be where my best friend had gone the year before and my cousin and aunt lived - I would go down to visit him them. This went on for, well... too long. And, ironically? Lead to five (5) more Scott's in my life. Hmmmm...

Honestly, I really did go onto meet and date 5 Scott's! So, the 2nd guy named Scott - was just a coincidence, but 5? That's just weird. Right?

Oh the drama, the ANGST. Well, gotta run... there re-playing Pretty in Pink again!!!

Fuddy Duddy, Old Lady, GROWN-UP.... sigh.....

It's official. I've become one of those, oh God, I don't even want to say it. Ok, so I'll just whisper it ok? Ready? *Deep Breath* I'm OLD. No, I've become one of those older people. You know the ones, when discussing today's youth, they start sentences with phrases like "in my day" and "when I was his/her age." But today, I did it. I was talking with my SIL discussing my nephew and I said it. I said "his generation just doesn't want to work like my generation did." Dear God and baby Jesus - where in the FFFFFFFFFFFFF did that come from? And, when will the "I used to walk to school every day UPHILL both ways" line come out?

Then, later tonight I was driving to my SIL's house and as I cruised down her street (while talking to my BFF on the phone - see? I'm not THAT old) these KIDS (probably like 14-15ish) were riding dirt bikes or mini bikes on.the.road. (which is ILLEGAL in my hometown) (I know this b/c I did the EXACT SAME THING when I was 15).

Anyway, they were coming right at me, they didn't even pick one side of the road - I had to drive RIGHT DOWN THE MIDDLE! So, as I'm talking with my friend, I yell at these kids "it's ILLEGAL to ride those on the street!" I. am. my. dad. And - this is not a good thing in any way -shape - or -form.

Yeah, they just looked at me like I was some crazy old-no fun having - person. Which is probably what I did when:

I. was. their. age.

Oh God, make it stop!