i mell moke!

oh, by the way, my last blog was happy because i left out all of the ridiculous fucking drama that happened in the midst of memorial day weekend. to sum up -- never expect me to be around for freedom weekend again. it has proven to be the most screwed up weekend of the year, every year. and for me to still be shaking with anger 3 full days after the events means that i am really hurt, pissed, and completely baffled at some people's selfish and thoughtless actions. but, i refuse to let stupidity ruin the remainder of my month, (which is only 2 days, i do realize that, but it's the principle of it or whatever)so i have forced myself to listen to music that will make me smile, if not completely crack up -- its my "you cant get mad because you are listening to ridiculous 90s music" playlist, and really, it works. some ridiculous 90s songs that have been added to the list are: c&c music factory - everybody dance now; real mccoy - run away; spice girls - wannabe; new kids on the block - step by step. i am so serious too. i've always used music as an outlet, however i will admit i never thought i would have to use it to make myself laugh. if you can't laugh the second you hear "sooooo i'll tell you what i want what i really really want," then yeah, that's too bad.
also, saturday morning joe and i woke up at 6:00 am because we were still so horribly mad, but i ended up telling him the story of how i couldn't say "s" sounds when i was like 3. i therefore would say things like "i mell moke!" when i indeed smelled a cigarette or fire. and screaming "i mell moooooke" makes my sides hurt from the laughter that phrase creates. and then to accompany "i mell moooke" with "have you scheen my downschtairsch?" makes for laughter that may induce fainting because you can't breathe due to shaking and laughing. and its that laugh-so-much that you've actually succumb to the silent shoulder shaking laugh with an occasional gasp for air. so i thank god for my sense of humor and my ability to laugh because i really would have beat the shit out of some person(s) if i couldn't calm down. actually i wouldn't have beat anybody up, my brain can't process the act of hitting someone. but damn i sure did act it out in my head. so iloveyoujoelong, for keeping me laughing and also for not breaking my banister, because i indeed will need a railing tomorrow.
moral of the story: listen to spice girls and tell silly toddler stories when you are really mad. because you can't stay mad when the boys of new kids on the block are swooning you with "step by step, oooooh baby. gonna get to you gurr-urrr-urrr- rrrlll." see, bad 90s pop music does serve a purpose: keeps me from punching people in the face.

and one more time just for the hell of it -- i mell moooooke!

Night of the Limo

I got to pretend I was famous Friday night. Somehow Michael was able to get a limo for us to take to Freedom Weekend. Do you know how cool I felt? It's rare for me to actually feel cool, and I so did Friday night. Me, Joe, Emily and Michael were all excited waiting for the limo to come get us from the apartment. I made some comment about how I was going to crack up if it was white with like gold hundred spokes or some shit -- low and behold, the bitch was white. no crazy rims though. Still made me laugh. Our limo driver was this crazy Brooklyn guy. Accent included. So we piled in the thing and got absolutely wasted. I finished an entire bottle of red wine, Emily had champagne, the boys had hard liquor - very very bad ass. On the way there, I would roll down the window just far enough for people to see my big tacky sunglasses. Then I would wave and blow kisses like I was some famous chick. Ha. We had to pick up Zach and I made Joe get out and go take a picture of me sticking my tacky head out of the window. Oh, I thought I was so cool. So yeah. We got the limo driver to park and let us keep drinking once we got to Freedom. But the only problem was that Joe and I really really had to pee. We had no idea where the potties were so we just started walking in the direction we were pointed in. Well like seriously, there were no bathrooms anywhere. And we couldn't hold it much longer... so we found this baseball field that had bathrooms -- and the bitches were locked!! So instead of peeing in the bathrooms we just had to pee next to them. At 6:30 in the afternoon... in broad daylight. Oh, the nonsense Joe Long and I get into. Too funny. So then I continued to roll down my window and wave to people once back in the limo -- I really confused a few bystanders. Everyone wanted me to be like 'Hey, I'm Katie Holmes. Want an autograph?" but my guess is that is somehow illegal. So I opted to throw myself back in my glass of wine and laugh about everything.
Finally we got kicked out of the limo so we were forced to go to the concert. Honestly, the limo was way more fun than actual Freedom Weekend. But I did get to see Matt Mullinax and hang out -- which was very cool. I'm always so glad to see Matt.
The limo we took back to Clemson was even cooler than the limo we took there -- this one was a black stretch Navigator. Pimp as hell. And we had Senn with us this time around. Crazy lights in the ceiling, bombass stereo system and even more huge than the first. We were so silly drunk and all I wanted to do was dance, but I ended up doing this goofy knee-knockin, pigeon-toeing, arm-flailing move that I've never done before but apparently thought looked really cool since I could see my reflection in the windows and the mirrors around the bottom. This in fact was not a cool move and I have asked Joe to make sure I never repeat that dance again. I also kept wanting to crawl around from the front to the back of the limo, so while I would attempt to move around, I'd be like "I'm sorry if you can see my downstairs," because I had on my teeny jean skirt that is basically worthless... unless my goal is to show my downstairs. So everyone probably got to see my underwear, but hey, at least I had them on... Ha... sorry if you saw my downstairs... that phrase alone cracks me up. So yeah, the limo stuff was definitely cool. First time I'd ever been in one, or two in one day for that matter. So I lost my limo V-card and I have to admit, it was worth it.

Don't Phunk With My Heart

Who knew I'd quote those crazy Black Eyed Peas?? So yeah, I said I wasn't going to write a blog today because I didn't want to be mean. I'm not going to be mean. I'm going to be real. And I know what is weighing on my mind: I want to give my heart to someone. I have before and it was such a wonderful experience. Of couse it hurts to break up, but I think it is foolish to not try just because you are scared of being hurt. Because in a sense, you are hurting yourself by not trying. What pisses me off, is that I am so willing to love someone - I want to -- I am currently seeking that out. Not that I am like on some crazy man hunt, but I am not afraid to have feelings for someone. And it's awesome when I can find someone who actually has feelings back. I know you all can understand that.
Everything surrounding love is fun -- the chase, the butterflies, the giddiness, the rush you get when you kiss someone and all you can think about is how you want to kiss him again. Everything surrounding love is also scary as hell. We fear the unknown. Love is the most unknown thing I believe we experience. It is the one aspect of our lives we really cannot control. There isn't a standard for relationships - they are all different, and we are these creatures that want to make sense of everything and have an explanation on hand for everything that happens. We can't do that with love. So we back out. We don't try. We push people alway when we realize we might fall. It makes me throw my hands up and just shake people sometimes and just ask, "Why?!" If you like me, try me. Sure we both might get the shit beat out of us emotionally, but do you know what the flipside of that is? It's amazing. And you know it. So don't worry constantly that you might get hurt or you might hurt me because if there is one thing I know, it's that I am just as scared of it all, I am just as much of a perfectionist, but damnit I will try when it feels right. And this time it really did/does/is.
:Insert forehead smack here:
Obviously... I mean I don't freak out like this over every guy that I might have a crush on. So once in a while I actually have to listen to myself.
Okay, there is one serious blessing/curse I have: my eyes. I cannot hide how I feel, whether it is happiness or anger. I can say I'm fine and you will know I am lying by looking into my eyes for just a few seconds. I also know that I can't hind when I have feelings for someone. But just because my eyes can show how I feel, doesn't mean I can come up with the words to explain the feelings.
God, I am going to pull my hair out. I seriously had to just get up and get a beer so I can calm the fuck down... but while I am upset, I'm not mad like at you... I'm just mad at you. Because that makes sense....
If there is one thing I have learned though, it's that you can't get mad at people for being honest - because hey, at least they were honest. I would just prefer if the honesty didn't come out in the form of you telling me that you in fact like another girl besides me and you tell me this while I am laying beside you. Yeah, that will make even the strongest person feel like a dumbass.
And like, I undestand that we are human. We fuck up. A lot. Where I seem to give myself a headache is when I try to figure out when to keep going or when to give up. Because right now, I don't want to give up. But I don't know if that's right - and that's what is hard. So it appears that I am the psychologist who now needs a psychologist. This is why I want to help other people -- it's easier for me to get involved in helping others than it is for me to try to figure myself out. Because I never know if I am doing the right thing. And again, I know that you can identify with that because I know that you too don't know what the hell you are doing. Which is why I think we should not know what the hell we are doing together. Like, let's be confused together - let's figure it out together. Let's fuck up together.
I just have a hard time hearing that someone likes me and wants to start something with me and then the next night hear that he likes another girl too and isn't quite sure of what he wants. I think that is a valid complaint. Wouldn't you agree? So I guess, I just ran myself in a circle (hmm, sound familiar - 10 page paper about why people have feelings), but maybe now my stance is a little more clear. I do still want to smack you in the forehead though.

The Upgrade

I got a new car!!!
So the old Cellie is finally retired. She was so good to me. And damn we had some fun in that little red celica. Today mom and I went to Carmax because we had a celica transferred from VA and it had arrived. When we walked outside to see it, I really almost fell over. It's gorgeous. She is midnight blue, GTS, sunroof, spoiler, charcoal leather interior, 2000, hot alloy wheels, bangin system (that is going to bang so much harder because my wonderful Dustin is giving me his 10 and his amp. I insisted I take him to dinner - so I will buy him sushi and he will give me the hotass noise makers), and of course the keyless entry that beeps at me to let me know she's unlocking. Ohmygah I am so in love with this car. My parents are so great. And great doesn't really even do them justice - they are amazing. I love them so much, and not just because they bought me a badass car that makes me look way hot. They bought it for me for graduation and told me that I deserve it and it made me feel so good. Wow. I am too excited for words!

Don't Lock Yourself Out of Your 3rd Floor Apartment

Last night was really fun. It's been weird not having Megan with me. I kinda feel lost. And right now, Emily and Erin both are gone too - so it's just been me and Tucker. So without my girls here, I have to learn to like make new friends and shit. It's working. It's so cool when I find awesome people, and there is like a slew of them around Clemson this summer it seems. These people include, but are not limited to: Andrew, Sarah P, Mary Beth, their way fun friend Kevin, Jayson with a Y, and of course Candle.
Last night Andrew and I hung out and I had such a good time. We downed a big bottle of wine in like an hour between the two of us and talked our freakin heads off -like everything from motorcycles to borderline personality disorder. Yeah. Then we met Sarah, MB and Ellen and some other way fun people at Esso. Candle and Jayson ended up there also, so we had this awesome group of people that have never hung out together, but I've hung out with them all separately -- it was so cool to have us all together. But yeah... There is karaoke at Esso on Wednesday -- so not the same as Karaoke Tuesday. It just doesn't compare to TDs with Ed Miller.
We ended up at TTTs later; whereupon Candle stood on the booth and got the head shake from the owner. He apparently did not want to see our pretty Candle bust her pretty little ass. Fair enough. But it was really funny because it's not like she was even dancing; she was just standing up and talking to people. Yeah, this girl is so about to be my new partner in crime. Thanks to the 594 shots complements of Andrew, it is safe to say that we were all on the same level as Candle... no not standing on booths, but drunk enough to think its a good idea. Ha. Then somehow I started talking to Kevin (Sarah and MBs super fun friend) and holyhell, he's a Woodchuck fan! Wooohoo! And then he bought one for me!!! Even more woooohooooo! Ohmygah it was like heaven. If heaven came in a flavor, it would be woodchuck - and on a sidenote, if hell came in a flavor it would be prairie fire. We of course closed down the bar and then found our way home.
Now here comes the funny part of the night, or completely irrational insane part, whichever... So I locked my dumbass out of the apartment. I figured we could just pick the lock or go through Emily's window. Well, Emily's window was locked so that option was out and we were both too drunk to do the credit card in the door trick. Our final option was the kitchen window. The tiny kitchen window with nothing but 3 stories of nothing below it. It was unlocked though. So yeah Andrew scaled the fucking wall. Opened the window, pushed Tucker's fat head out of the way, got on the other side of the railing and shimmied through the window. And Andrew isn't little - we're talkin 6'5'' big dude here. Yeah, about the time he had one leg over the railing I had my phone in my hand ready to dial 911. Do you know how horribly bad that idea was?! And how completely stupid it was? And how bad it could have been?! GAH! Idiots. But Andrew did it perfectly. I guess if the whole normal career path doesn't work out, you could always scale walls and break into apartments through windows for a living for girls that lock themselves out. So thank you like a million gagillion times for getting into my apartment and for like not dying and shit. I'd prefer to keep you breathing and walking and all that jazz. You're kinda cool. So yeah, the moral of the story: don't leave your keys in your back pocket of your jean skirt and then change and leave your keys in the skirt and then lock the door and go downtown. Never ever ever do that. Bad.

This Shit is Bananas B-A-N-A-N-A-S

Okay so Joe and I were pretty much the only ones left of the 6 pack last night. Everyone is either living in Charleston or on vacation or just at home. So we decided we needed to drink together. Starting at 6:00 last night, we made these hardcore margaritas and really, by 8:00 I had a serious buzz. Ha! So I kinda made the margaritas wrong everytime. I don't understand ounces and all that jazzz (Yes I just got a college degree) but whateva, it got us drunk. Hey did you know that tequilla tastes like metal? I swear. And so does Joe. So anyway... It was still daylight outside and Joe and I were on the verge of being wasted. So we're just chillin in my apartment and Joe decided to go outside to smoke. He closed the door and like 5 seconds later flings it back open screaming, "You know what?!" I was like "Ummm, what??" Joe was like "You die without your liver, and really I mean, I wouldn't want to live if I didn't have a liver anyway. Think about it. Thiiiiink about iiiit!" WTF Joe? Really. Enter the new Gwen song: This shit is bananas B-A-N-A-N-A-S! Ha.
So Joe and I went downtown around 10:45 because duh, it was Karaoke Tuesday. As soon as we got there he was like "I'm signing us up to sing and there is nothing you can do about it... hahahaa" Thanks Joe. So I guess around midnight Ed was like 'Nic and Joe" Shiiit man. And yes, we sang Toxic. Honestly, Joe put me to shame, I started out strong, but Joe really knew all the words and hit the high notes surprisingly well. Apparently we were hillarious. I mainly just shoook my ass because really, that is all I am good for. You people know I cannot sing, so I just let Joe do most of the work while I used the hydraulics. They liked us. Joe's fun and I have a ghetto ass - good karaoke combo if you ask me. I later impressed Joe with my ability to add "ahhh skeet skeet mothafucka" to any given song. You can do it - swear. Just play some St. Elmo's fire and I will gladly add in the necessary skeet skeet mothafucka. Talent. I know.
Joe and I made these awesome ass little pizzas and the "Mexican family" size box of mac and cheese when we got home. Its pretty impressive that we never burn the house down or just fall on the stove or anything destructive like that. Then I came home, talked to Tucker, found my extremely sexy Hot 98.1 tshirt and passedthefuckout.

I Went to Clemson

Clemson University
One Hundred Ninth Commencement
May 13, 2005

"There is something in these hills that brings together and binds together and holds together men and women of all persuasions, of all heights, sizes, weights, and cultural backgrounds-- something that cuts across every difference, spans every gap, penetrates every wall-- something that makes a man or a woman stand taller, feel better, and say with high pride to all within earshot...
I went to Clemson."
I graduated from Clemson. Wow. Graduation was at 2:30 for me. I thought I would be able to keep it together; and I did for the most part, but it really hit me as I was walking onto the floor at Littlejohn while the graduation song was playing. I teared up. I was so nervous for the entire 2 hours. When our row stood up to get in line, I kicked the chair at the end of the row. I was so afraid I was going to bust my ass, luckily I only stumbled a little. I got tunnel vision when the announcer said my name "Nicole Christine Cononie, cum laude." I just started walking and could only really see President Barker. My feet kind of slid out of my shoes but I kept them on thankfully. Three inch heels might have been a bad idea... so I shook Barker's hand and then the Dean of my college and walked back to my seat holding my diploma! Ahh! Yeah, I was a shaky disaster after that. Once everyone recieved their diplomas, Barker said "congratulations you are now Clemson Alumni." Enter tears. And then we sang the Alma Mater. Enter more tears. Then we did our "1-2-3-4, 1-2-3-4, C--L-E-M-S-O-N T-I-G-E-RRRRR-S!" And I cried for that too. I didn't think I'd be as emotional as I was. Then when I walked out and saw my family and Mom was crying - ahhh! So needless to say it was an emotional day. I'm so proud though. I am a college graduate! Do you know how fun it is to say that? And I got to turn my ring around. Now it faces everyone else. Sometimes I look down and see it facing the other way, and I'm just like "wow." It's a pretty cool feeling.
After graduation I went to eat with my family and then Erin's family had a little cookout celebration for a few of us - me, Erin, Emily, Megan, Joe, Michael, Matt, Zach and Senn. It was so nice to be able to just hang out with my closest friends. We went downtown afterward, but me, Megan and Joe got seperated from the rest because the line at Tiger Town was so long so we just went to Overtime. Zach joined us later. Megan wore her graduation robe out. Spaz. But then again, it's Megan and I'm almost not surprised. I wanted to dance so bad, but my legs hurt from standing and being so nervous all day that I just had to sit there. And I could barely drink because I had been so shaky all day.
So congratulations Clemson University Class of 2005. We did it! We really did it. I will start working toward my Master's in August so I guess I am not technically done with school, but I have to admit it feels really good to have my Bachelor's degree sitting on my shelf, proudly displayed, for me to see anytime I like. Yep - Class of 2005. Wow.

Wild Wild Wings Wednesday

Last night, Megan and I went to Greenville to hang out with Blair and Matt (or Guff as we like to call him). Ed does karaoke at Wild Wings on Wednesdays so we figured we play the role of true groupies and go see him there. Before we went downtown, we met the boys at El Jalisco. Megan however could not remember the friggin name (and still can't for that matter) and would simply call it Ell all night. Big Blair (Blair's dad) has some magical company credit card and so we got to get a lot of beer and a couple good rounds of shots for free. And free makes everything taste better. Needless to say however, we were all pretty tipsy by about 10:00 when we left to go DT.
We went straight to Wild Wings. Enter: extremely drunk phase. Wild Wings gives free redbull on Wednesday! There IS a God! And booooy did we get shit-tay! Woot Woot. So yeah, we take our respective seats at the very front table with the strange girl from Tuesday night who was anti-bra with anger management issues, though she was actually a really sweet thing. Even if she did have spikes around her neck... So yeah, she decided to sing, and she is actually really good. She got on the table because she thinks she is Avril Lavigne and proceed to molest me via microphone. Really. Like sang all to me, grabbed my chin, batted her eyes. Megan kinda grunted and grabbed me. Thanks. It was sort of strange. So in honor of my lesbianish come-on, we took about 5 jager bombs. I suppose that because the bomb was free, they chose to be stingy with it... yeah so basically there was not so much bomb. And whoa that jager must have been mad at me for neglecting it lately because he kicked my hydraulic ass last night. Lord. So of course I lose all inhibitions and decided that I too should dance on tables. So I busted a move on a table top, Megan joined me and we put on a show; well, until the bouncer came in and shook his head at us and made us get back on ground level. Oops.
So as we were cracking up about our little performance, Avril and her two sidekicks come over and, Ishityounot, ask to touch my boobs! wtf? They told me that they just thought they were really pretty. I said that they were real, not fake, and they were like, we know, we could tell and that is why we wanted to touch them. I said "Ummm, thanks, but no sorry, you can't." So Megan and Blair grabbed them instead. Thanks guys. I love being molested. Ha. Ed was also excited about my boobs Wednesday night. Apparently they were a hit... I dunno. It's not technically my fault...
We decided we wanted to go to Platinum pretty soon but first we wanted to sit outside and get some fresh air. No big deal right? Well it wouldn't have been if all the chairs weren't freakin' chained together! If I pulled on one, the person next to me or across from me couldn't squeeze in. So we played musical chairs for about 5 minutes before we all found a seat that we could sit on without having our circulation cut off from being wedged in between the table and chair. I think we had to sit at 3 different tables between the 4 of us. Awesome. We're idiots.
So then we went to Platinum. Megan had to drive us because all those jagers with not so much bomb kind of kicked the rest of our asses. We busted up in there with our free passes and ran straight for the front of the stage. I'd like to take this moment to thank Platinum Plus for the wheely chairs. They make life, especially life in the strip club, a lot more fun. At some point all four of us took our turns giving the nice naked stripper girls some dollas. The one I chose told me I was pretty. That's sweet. I swear they are all bi in there. Eh, whatever, that's why I go with boys-- they can save me if necessary. Well if you can believe it, Megan and I ended up giving Matt and Blair their own little lap dances That is so unlike us... I stopped because I didn't really want to get kicked out of the nudey bar for taking away from the strippers. I have been yelled at for doing that before. True story. They don't want you stealing the naked girls' thunder. Especially when their thunder comes in the form of nakedness. Blair and Matt were so belligerant that they really could not see straight. Really. Blair told me. And that's bad news. So poor Megan, the one who doesn't know squat about Greenville is the one driving our drunk asses back to Simpsonville. (There was no way in hell we were driving back to Clemson). We all passed out... apparently... well we assumed that's what happened since we woke up and didn't remember falling asleep. And damnit was I hung over Thursday. Like whoa.
It was worth ever minute of that hang over too. That is the most fun I have had in a really long time. So a big thanks to Megan, Matt and especially Blair for Wild Wild Wings Wednesday fun. Love you people.

Stalkers Don't Make Friends

I have some rants in the pants again... let's say, hypothetically, i dated this guy and now he is dating this new girl. let's also pretend she is a stalker bitch. lucky for me, i also know how to use stalker tatics to find information i need to know that i am in fact being watched. see, i'm smart... and yes i do know that you are getting your cute little friends to check up on my pictures and my blog entries... probably trying to confirm if her wonderful hypothetical boyfriend is cheating on her. i don't think he is technically. i mean i sure as hell am not seeing him. but i really wish she would stop getting her friends to check on what i'm doing. and then block me because they of course don't want me to see their little AIM profiles. yes, i know my life rocks and i write a better blog... but come on. let's grow up here. all you're going to do is make yourself paranoid. so congratulations, sweetheart.
oh i love how much of a bitch i can be. hope you enjoyed it.

Senior Walk 2005

So I survived the Senior Walk. Amazing. And amazingly fun also. We began our adventure at 6:30 Monday night at Esso. It was the first mexi-Monday of the season. Woot Woot. That in itself calls for a celebration. Esso was giving a free beer to everyone sporting the SW shirts. So hot. Wearing tshirts downtown is the bomb. The sign at Esso said something about "Party with Cookie." I immediately cracked up as my imagination took me back to Spring Break where I received that splendid lap dance from Cookie the Girlscout Stripper. I wonder if it's the same Cookie. I'd like to find out. She can give me another crazy lap dance. Maybe. It was kinda weird. I still don't know if I was supposed to like it or not.
We then went to Peppino's Pizza where we got $1 slices of pizza. Do you understand how exciting that is? Ate the hell out of it too. Again, praise to the almighty tshirt; aka fat disguiser. That deserves a woot woot too. (by the way, the woot woot has been pirated from Dan Lavander.)
Once we filled ourselves up on grease and carbs, it was time to start the reeeal drinking. To Overtime we go. Megan and I decided we wanted a shot. Oooh, there's a surprise. So we asked David what one of those badass shots were named that he made for us last week. I cracked up when I learned the name... Piece of Ass. So Megan has to say to the bartender "Hey, can I get a... uhhh... piece of ass...??" Ha! Best piece of ass I had all night. Actually it was the only ass I had all night. Damn good too. So then we drowned ourselves in Long Island, Red Death, Jager Bombs, Apple Bombs... you know, all the good stuff - especially the forbidden Mind Eraser. Who invented that shit? And how is it that there are morons like us that actually enjoy rotting our livers with such a drink?! I want to thank you, Mr. Mind Eraser, for all the good times you have given me. You rock out to the max. Oh, and apparently I coined that saying last night too. Everything was "too the max." Examples include but are not limited to: You suck to the max; he is gay to the max; I can shake my ass to the max; that bouncer is the bomb to the max. So David, hot bartender and bouncer walked by last night and I was like "I just want to like pet his muscles." He had way hot arms...to the max. So Megan is like "HEY! David! Come here" And proceded to give me the okay to feel him up. I got all embarassed and refused to uncross my arms or look up. Sometimes I revert back to acting 10. It happens. Whatever. So we took about 20 pictures at Overtime. Ones consisting of some of the girls dancing on the tent pole as well as Joe attaching signs that say "Under 21" and "Over 21" with arrows pointing to his crotch. Typical Joe for you.
Then Megan and I snuck away to Backstreets. Where we consumed a whole apple bomb each. No wonder I was wired until 6 fucking am... I managed to smack my ass into the owner of TTT's. He was playing pool. My mammoth ass ran into him. I think I was just standing there and it leaned over and punched him. He didn't seem to mind really. I also got hit on my two strange guys named Herman and Dan. Can I just say that Herman is one of the most God-awful names ever? I mean, who does such damage to their own child? Bastards. They told me I looked "very nice this evening" I wanted to be like "dudes, Im in a tshirt, a brightass orange skirt, Im slightly disheveled and I have beer stains already.... what part of that constitutes very nice?"
Whatever. So we went back to Overtime. Because apparently we are addicted. Next we did a lap through Tiger Town Tavern. Really it was just long enough to grafitti the walls and ceiling in the girls' bathroom. MEEN Girls were here! Senior Walk 2005, Bitches!! Enough of that.
So we peaced out and went to Loose Change. This was our 6th stop of the adventure. There was a strange old black man jamming out to the band. Of course he asked me to dance. All strange old black men love me. God, I'm on fire. I declined the offer. All the girls could not believe I could refuse such a hunk. Sike. Eww. Why do creepy old men do such things? So whatever, I drank some beer, signed some shirts, got a little loud, took some pictures... you know the drill. Asian Jayson and Karla were there. It appeared that we all seemed to follow the other around all night. Kinda funny cause you get to be like "Gah quit following me. Stalkers don't make friends."
Then we went to TD's. The Berkley Girls gave us a free pitcher of beer. Woot Woot again. I was way trashed in TD's. I kept stealing everyone's cups and writing "I Love Nicole" on them. Apparently I was full of myself last night... what else is new. Kidding. I'm only cocky and abbrasive on special occassions. Senior Walk was special. Therefore enter cocky and abbrasive. We vandalized the piss out of the bathroom here too of course. I think we actually did at every bar. However, I would forget I had a Sharpie and instead I would just sit and makeout with my drink. Because hey, who wants to write on walls when you can make out with alcohol? By this time I decided I needed dinner #2. So we hauled back to Peppino's. When my number was called, I happily pranced in to retrieve my eats. I then went to get some napkins since I can be quite a disaster.... and god, was I one... so as I am pulling for the napkins, I tilt my plate; thus causing one of my slices of pizza to fall to the ground and the other one to run smack into the middle of my wayhot SW shirt. Nooooo!! I looked puzzlingly at the pizza on the floor for a few seconds, stuck out my bottom lip, grabbed it and ran outside. I had cheese stuck to the front of my shirt and grease dripping down me. How sad. And how stupid! I was so embarassed. I wouldn't look up. I just picked the melted cheese off of my shirt and made a frowny face and grunted with every cheese chunk I pulled off and slung to the ground. We ate the floor pizza. Stephanie is alive, so it was okay. I guess. However I had a miserable pizza grease stain on the middle of my shirt for the remainder of the night. Megan stole a sign that said "Caution Do Not Enter." I strategically held it over my miserable grease clot while I pranced down the street back to Overtime. I didn't really care at that point though, so I proudly displayed my grease. Megan wrote on my shirt explaining that Tina did it and also that it was the pizza that was stuuupid... not Nicole. When in all actuality, it was in fact Nicole that was completely to blame for the horrid stain. Idiot. Me,Megan and Joe stayed at Overtime for the rest of the night. Drinking, making fun of idiot girls trying to dance. God, they were horrible... and you know, just being glad that we had each other to sit with and rag on others.
All in all, Senior Walk 2005 was a success. I really do have the best friends. I love all of you so much and I am glad I can participate in drunken festivities with all of you... a BIG Woot Woot for Senior Walk!!

Catherine Rocks to the Max

Okay so Catherine Reid, aka my favorite doof dater, wrote a freakin ode to me. TO ME. How fucking cool is that? It's in her blog, but I had to post it in mine out of appreciation/love/respect for being so bad ass. I love this girl... to the max. for real. Enjoy:

Monday, May 09, 2005

Cononie Ode/Rap
I really love Nicole Cononie. I thought since she is graduating and all on May 13th that I would write a little piece in honor of her..her funniness..her hottness..you catch my drift. Yea, she just rocks. So here we go...
Ode to Nicole
Nicole, Nicole..she rocks my damn socks.
She can party all night, and drink like a fish
How does she keep the hot bod?
Do I know?...I WISH!
She is the karaoke queen
Britney Spears? Her impression is mean.
She makes me feel un-psycho
For being a crazy stalker
You'll never be as cool,
So don't even try to mock her.
She'll probably be my shrink
Which is cooler than wearing pink.
Her journal is so funny
I fall out of my damn seat.
It's funnier than the doof
And the way she and I did meet.
Makes me happy when I'm pissed
She's smart as hell and fun to boot
Nicole Cononie is the shit
This point is so not moot.
I am so glad that we know each other, and you probably really will be my shrink, because Lord knows I need one, and you do a damn good job giving me advice and listening to my weirdass boy predicaments. Hahaa. And we will sing Britney this summer at some point. For serious. You're damn amazing, girl...I love how we think just alike, and I'm so glad I dated Adam so I got to know you. Kick some Mental Department of SC ASS. Hahha, I just pictured you beating up crazy people. That would be kind of funny. Anyway! Heart you, girl..and yay for graduating!
posted by catherine @
6:28 pm

again... thanks (x) 869848325 to catherine reid for seriously being awesome. iloveyouwaymuch.

Two Batteries Short of a Jam Box

I had a real job interview this morning at the SC Dept. of Mental Health for the position of theraputic assistant wherein I would be leading groups of mentally ill people in counseling. Big stuff, huh? So I get there, meet with Victoria, the nice hiring lady, whereupon she asks me how well I think on my feet. I told her I am very good at thinking and acting spur of the moment. She said, "Good, because I told the clients that we have a guest speaker today... and that is you." Holyfreakinshit. So, I had to go into a meeting room where approximately 50 mentally ill clients were and explain to them how to use safety at the cookout they will be having this coming Wednesday. Talk about crazy. No pun intended. I have never in my life had to do something like that. I spoke for about a minute or two and then asked them to contribute more safety advice or ask any questions -- so it ended up lasting about 5 more minutes. And then they all clapped their heads off for me. Awesome. I came out of the meeting room and one of the staff was like "Was she hosting church in there? They're all hootin', and clappin' for her like she did something awesome." So from that, I can safely say that I did a good job with it. Way intimidating though. So then I had to sell myself to her, make her realize that I would kick ass in the field, especially since I have had experience from doing the interviews at Gateway House all year. So hopefully in about a month I will be working full-time! Wish me luck.

So to celebrate my interview skills, we grilled some burgers and splashed around the pool this afternoon. Joe made like 5 trips to try to complete the "grill out" setting -- to get the jambox, then for batteries, then for 2 more batteries, then for some change for some coke to add to his beam or whatever... sadly though, the jam box never did work for us. It was funny because Emily was all sittin in the grass trying to rearrange the batteries in some kind of special order so as to make the machine work. She was like "we need more batteries." So needless to say, I thought it was kinda funny... sorta like the comment of being "just a few fries short of a happy meal;" you can also be, "two batteries short of a jam box." And yes, damnit, we call it a jam box. And it typically plays ridiculous 80s music compliments of Joe. And we like it. Especially when it comes next to a cooler of bud light. And by the way Joe, I really really want to sing Toxic tomorrow night at karaoke -- you take the high notes of course. It'll be a hit.

Also, I love Catherine. We had an interesting chat this afternoon. I also almost fell out of my seat from laughing so hard. That's all I really feel the need to say. Okay bitches, I gotta get ready for the SeNiOr WaLk.

Senior Crawl, Too Fast Too Furious Cars and Horrible Dance Moves

First, CONGRATULATIONS to all who graduated from USC (Spartanburg included) this weekend. Absolutely awesome. I can't believe I graduate from Clemson in 5 days. Whoa. In honor of all we have done at the fine University, we are celebrating by taking part in what is known as Senior Walk. We do feel that the name should be altered since Senior Walk only consists of walking around downtown to all the bars to get hotass discounts on drinks; therefore we like to call it Senior Crawl. There will also be some Senior Stumble, but inevitably we will all be forced to bumble around by the end of the night on our hands and knees. Which I look forward to greatly. So, I chose to prep you for the entry that will occur post Senior Walk. We get to wear these t-shirts that say senior walk, which is really just a nice way to say alcoholic. But hey, it's gonna get me a free corona and happy hour prices everywhere. I'll take it. Also, our beloved Joe Long decided we need to take a taxi, though not a taxi cab, but rather a taxi van. Because it will be fun to see how many of us we can pile into one. And also because it will cost everyone approximately $1.72 to travel DT and back. And that is the bomb. I'm so excited to write the entry that will encompass the Senior Crawl experience. Makes me clap thinking about it.
So, I went car shopping today. Woo woo! New Celica here I come! I really really like this yellow one, but mom and i are semiskittish because weird people would then know I drive a yellow car - and hot girl with hot car can potentially lead to way creepy stalker people. And I've had one too many in my life of those. One being one too many... stupid bitch... so yeah, car shopping. Yes I realize I kind of want to own a too fast too furious car, but if being a car club kid was cool, I would so be one. My whole family is car obbsessed. It happens. We like to look at pretty things. I just happen to like pretty cars that look like they could be on some race track next to Paul Walker. Don't judge. Yep. I also got to drive the badass camero to go car shopping. Yes, I am a spoiled brat. This I know.
Okay, lastly I want to talk about Friday night at Overtime. Okay really, if you are black, dance black. Don't let white girls show you up. So like really, Puff Daddy was at the bar.. or at least some lame ass who wanted to be ol' Puff Dummy. He had on these stupid sunglasses with like the gold wire rimmed effect, this extremely oversized basketball jersey that said something like "Numba 1 Stunna" on the back that was florescent orange and white, horribly baggy jeans and Air Force Ones complements of Nelly. He also had these strange orange colored streamer-like tassle things hanging from his pocket. Derrick was like "What is that?" I was like "... an octopus...?" I have no damn clue what the were - but they seemingly resembled those bike streamers we used to put on our handlebars when we were 8. So cool. ... Moron ... And his dance moves consisted of him stompping twice to the left and then like 3 times to the right. I was like "What, is this the Cha Cha Slide?! Do something!" And he'd clap and then do the rub-your-hands together shit and clap some more. Then stomp again. Do a twirl. Stop. Size up every female in the place. Waddle over to his buddies. And stomp. Ugh. Please someone smack me in the forehead if I do gay things like that. Really. So being the show off I am (Megan too) we pranced out to the dance floor, busted a few moves that were 485 times cooler than P. Dumbass and then took our respective seats back at the bar. To take more shots. Complements of the awesome ass bartender who likes to hook us way up. Woo woo. And yummy shots are always cooler than a stomping, clapping Puff Daddy.

Litter Box of Doom

so just as i was about to go to bed last night, i heard tucker banging around in his litter box. sometimes this is normal. he's kind of a spaz. if you've met him then you know what i mean. like really, the cat claws the walls, meows like it's his job, attacks our toes, chases invisible bugs which leads me to believe he is schizophrenic, and basically is just completely weird. so yeah, he was bangin around in the potty box and i just knew that could only mean trouble. and boy was it ever trouble... in the form of shit on his back foot. again. noooo. the first time this occurred i had erin to emotionally support me through the episode. and it really does take two people. but it was me against the beast. and that was not a pretty battle. first, i had to strategically pick him up so as not to collide with the tootie. no such luck - he managed to get some on his back. how do you get shit on your back? gah. i'm serious, this was a disaster. all the while it's like 2:45 in the morning, i'm all zombie like from drugging myself with too much coffee, staring at powerpoints and trying to decided what to do with my life, and also trying to decide what to consume for cinco de mayo... so yeah, i'm like screaming at tucker, he's screaming back, we are running around the apartment, i'm trying to corner him so as to contain the shit... finally i grabbed him so i run to the sink, but i couldn't get him situated so he clawed me, jumped down and tracked crap all over the kitchen. very vomit-worthy. round two. this time i got him in the sink, well at least his back legs and i had to scrub. ewwwww. so needless to say, battling with tucker while shit-infested is not pleasant. and definitely a two person job. i had to like change all my clothes because they were either hairy, wet or crappy. literally. or litterally. ha. i crack myself up... awful. and then i had to like completely wash out his littler box because it was just a disaster. one big stinky shitty disaster. ugh, i won't even go into detail - too gross. just applaud me for not throwing up and for getting through it alone. eww. what a way to end the night... damnit tucker.

I Heart Blog

Woo woo! I just learned that I can make my "comments" section open to anyone! That means all of you can post your comments on my entries! But if you are mean, I don't want to hear it. Gah. Don't be mean. So, blog is the anit-study. Really. My notes are in front of me and I'm just like whatthefuckever. Tomorrow is my last exam as an undergrad. Madness. So listen to my bonehead move of the evening: I wanted to make coffee, since I began studying tonight at 11:00 for my 9 am exam...genius. Well, I filled the pot with water, dumped it in and turned it on. However, I sort of left out the key ingredient in coffee -- coffee. Yep, didn't put any in the little filter place. Moron.
Tomorrow is frickin' Cinco de Mayo. Hi, my name is DRUNK. Its gonna be good.
So, I have an interview Monday with the SC Dept. of Mental Health! A REAL job! I am interviewing for the position of theraputic assistant. I'm really excited. I would love love LOVE to take this job. I hope it works out. Okay fine, I'll go study. I already got a B though this semester, which seriously screws up the 4.0 I was shooting for. Gah. I guess I haven't really done work though this year in terms of school - the only work I've done has been beer research. Yeah. Beer Reseach.

The Mind Eraser

So last night was karaoke. duh. We've established that we love our Tuesdays. This Tuesday was a little different however. First, I got to spend so much time with Emily. She hasn't been able to go out a lot this semester (Erin also) because both have been student teaching. It was so wonderful to have Emily sitting across the table from me, giving me the good advice that I miss so much. She keeps my head on straight. I am so proud of you, Emily. You are so amazing and I love you more than I think I know how to tell you.
Sorry, sappy... its all this graduation shit that is making me a complete mushpot. really. Mushpot. Whatever. So, Emily bought us this crazy drink called the "Mind Eraser." I would like to take this opportunity to insert an IM composed by my long lost Anna:

Anna: most sensible people when they see a drink called a mind eraser: "Hm, I should probably stay away from that."
Auto response from Neecole228: i am not responsible for my actions last night. i had a drink called a mind eraser.
Anna: Nicole Cononie when encountering a drink called a mind eraser: "Give me 4."
Anna: i miss you

And by the way, it does erase your mind -- actually it just erases your ability to control any given action that you would otherwise not do. For instance: sing on stage 3 times willingly. One time with Megan and Michael - well, more so with Michael because Megan got all emotional and had to run away, leaving me with a microphone screaming "Lets get naked! Take off your top Megan, where the hell are you?! I need you! NOW" And I sing so well. Ha. Then I sang again with those two and like really, I just cried on stage for most of it -- we sang "Time of your Life" by Greenday. Holyshit. Talk about being an emotional basketcase. Me, Megan and Emily just stood up there and hugged while Michael sang pretty much. I still held on to the other microphone, but I just got tears on it. I kept my sunglasses on - like they made me invisible or something.
Then I sang again. With Dan. Shot through th' Heeeeaaaaarrrrt!! And Dan can sing. Which is good because he could drowned out my tonedeaf ass. Amusing though. And I sang like loud - which is so unlike me. Usually I hold the microphone like arm completely extended and I only semi-sing. No. not last night -- last night I basically had the microphone down my throat all screamin and parading around. Crazy mind eraser. It's all your fault. Oh yeah, we took a picture with Vixxxen. Comical. Megan also took one of her and The Vix, I was not present in the picture because my dumbass was in the background... singing... on stage. Gah. What a stage whore.
Then I don't remember what else happend, but I ate Beezers and it was the shit and then I passed out. I woke up in my cool Hot 98.1 t-shirt and some camo boxers. Damn I am one sexy beast.

This is Me Being Excited about Blogger

Posted by Hello

It's Official: I'm Obbsessed

yeah hi, i love blog. i'm gonna go ahead and make a disclaimer - i hate capitatization so i'm opting not to use it. i hope you don't mind too terribly. last night i stared at blogger so long that i gave myself a headache. do any of you remember from freshmen year when i had to make a webpage? holyshit i stared at the computer for 8 hours straight. i almost threw up afterward, but i had a damn hot webpage. oh yes, be jealous. well not really. basically i can be way obbsessed with internet gadgets. especially when i get to write all my thoughts down. it keeps me sane - or maybe insane. entertained nonetheless. and me likey.

i would like to also take this opportunity to thank catherine for the inspiration. she was the reason i began the old diary and now also the new diary. thanks girl. and for those of you who don't know the story -- catherine and i both dated that too-hot-to-handle mr. adam ruonala. then we realized that the other one was exceptionally cool and we have now become good friends. ex-boyfriends don't like it when ex-girlfriends make nice, but it happened and i wouldn't have it any other way. yay for catherine.

I Love My K-Swiss. Especially at the Strip Club.

Remember how I said I should quit being all sappy and actually write something funny? Well, I found something funny. Be excited.
Friday night was nothing unusual at the start. We went to Overtime and got hammered. $8 Long Island pitchers is really hard to beat. And they have G-spots. The shot, you perverts. They also have ghetto fabulous dance party music. So why would we not go there? So the bartender made friends with us, and allowed us to try out some new beers such as Tire Bite Gross Beer and Ever Grosser Darkish Beer. Thankfully they came in little shot glasses. The latter of the two had a strange coffee like afterbite. How many beers are supposed to taste like coffee really? But it was like a trainwreck -- like, you know its horrible but you keep going back for more. I'd take a sip, shutter, my tongue would try to leave my face, and then I would take another sip. Whatever, it was amusing for Megan at least. And I aim to please. Or something like that.

So then we wanted to dance. I just wanna daaaaaaance. I mostly just wanted to show up the black people dancing like white people and also the questionable group of girls that eerily seemed lesbianish. Lesbians are okay, I just don't really want to be one or be like harassed by one or five. So yeah one of the girls busted out some dance moves. Dance moves like they do in the Nutcracker Ballet that is. Really. She was all twirly and bouncey and flowy and eww. Like really, don't do that. And she had on this goofy black painter's hat. My lip is uncontrollably snarling right now. Weird girl. So needless to say, she wanted Megan and I to dance also. Imagine that. So we did. And I got all overheated because I'm all sick because all I do is go to bars so my immune system divorced me. Told me I wasn't spending enough quality time with it...
Okay so last call came around and no no, we did not go to bed, but rather... Tiger Tails. Everyone always says they want to go there before they graduate... Megan and I have now been 3 times. That's just wrong. Well, they redid the place inside. No more white plastic pool furniture. And now the stage is right smack in the middle of the floor, only about a foot off the ground and there is no run way to get to it and the ceiling was like barely 7 feet. Which makes for really humorous pole twirling.So let me tell you about the lovely ladies who performed for us. Jesus Christ.
The first girl was ugly, but she could at least dance, but she had this strange scarf thing tied around her waist that she sometimes used as a twirly prop. Next was this girl the size of my pinky. Like really, someone give her a cheeseburger and stick that in her garter belt next time. Gah. On top of being stupidly thin, she could not dance. Looked like she was swatting bugs. And her thong? Granny as hell. All wide and not hot. And we were lead to believe that her tatoo was fake. It was like in the middle of her scrawny back instead of down low. Okay and she tried to like be sexy and throw her hair around and put her hands on her knees and shake her ass... she looked like she was doing the hokey pokey. Someone should really help her. Oh and she had on flip flops. Honestly, I didn't think it could get much worse that that. Boy was I wrong. Next up, Miss K-Swiss. So this girl comes hurdling toward the stage and like swings around the pole a few times and immediately begins convulsive ass shaking phase. I was dumbfounded. Not only did she have to get a running start for the pole, she had on K-Swiss. K-SWISS!! A stripper! Come on! wtf. Really. So once I got over that I began to watch her some more. We noted that she was not wearing one but two pairs of underwear. The first outside layer being a hideous white silky droopy granny panty thing, the inside layer being some gross thong. So she danced for this guy, whose mouth never closed and glasses fogged everytime one of these bitches was even near him. Well, she didn't completely take off her nice outer layer. Oh no, she just pulled them down to expose her ass and would then bounce her big ass around. Because of all the bouncing, the now droopy saggy underwear were like flopping around in between her thunder thighs. It was really disgusting. My lip is doing that snarl thing again. Eww. The owner came over the microphone and made some comment about how all ladies could take the stage. He had also told me and Megan that we could get on stage at any time that night if we wanted to. I said "I know." Sorry, I'm cocky and abbrasive. Ha. So well, Megan actually drug me on stage. Yep, check that off the list -- I've been on a stripper stage. I really did have to fight her to stay in my chair - I didn't win. So we get on the gross stage and I'm in these huge heels and I was like "Holy shit! No wonder she had on freakin' K-Swiss!" It's amazing that I didn't bust my ass - they had to have put like vaseline on that stage to grease that baby up. The entire time I was dancing I was bitching out Megan. I was all smiling and acting scandalous all the while going "I can't believe I'm on a fucking stripper stage at TIGER TAILS! I'm going to kick your blonde ass. What the hell are we doing up here!" She just laughed and proceded to grind her ass on me. Gah. Come to find out, we were the hottest and best things to take the stage all night, but then again it was Tiger Tails so I'm not really that flattered or surprised. Damn you Megan for putting me on that stage. I love you. And I did get to touch a real stripper pole. Ha.

So we let the strippers have their stage back. We sort of got bumrushed after we got off stage by some ninjas who thought we were really strippers. I mean, we had all our clothes on and we were still getting dollars thrown at us. That's amusing. So then Miss K-Swiss came back out. This time she had changed outfits into what could have been the most ridiculous piece of material I have ever been exposed to in my entire life thus far. So remember back in the 80s when women wore crazy spandex leotards to exercise or do gymnastics? Well, K-Swissy had one on, however it had holes in all the wrong places, or right places if you were that guy who couldn't shut his big nasty redneck mouth because he was drooling so much. Eww. Okay, it was this red sparkly leotard with a thong in the back and like a gapping hole for her gut. Which by the way, did hang over the skimpy material to cover her downstairs. And she would periodically pull back the pieces that covered those lovely boobs of hers. Ahh. And she had on the K-Swiss kicks. Wow. Our friend Matt, we call him Jiggy, decide to approach the stage. I damn near fell out of my chair, I was laughing so hard. K-Swiss Cheeks got down on all fours, shoved her ass in Jiggy's direction and started bouncing. Well, Jiggy's head bounced in the same rhythm with her jiggy ass. HA-freakin-larious. Her ass was like bounce bounce bounce and Jiggy's head was all bounce bounce bounce the same time. What a sight.So now I've experienced Tiger Tails for the third time. And really, the whole time I was there I was like "Where's Cookie?" Remember, the girl who gave me, Megan and Derrick the lap dance in Charleston? Yeah, Tiger Tails needs to trade Swiss Cheeks for Cookie.
Definitely... so now I've been 3 times. I really don't find it necessary to obtain a 4th, but then again, I have been known to do some crazy shit.

Ready. Set. New Diary.

So yeah, I got bored with the old diary; hence this new and fabulous thing. You can imagine how insanely addicted I am going to become since I can change colors and add pictures and do all kinds of fun things! I can hardly wait. Fret not however, you avid readers of the old diary can still access the entries via the handy dandy clicky place over there to your right. Woot Woot.
So welcome to Life as I Know It. Or at Least as I Wrote it. I plan to continue to humor you and allow into all the crazy corners of my brain. Let the fun continue.