It doesn't really matter whether you grip the arms of the dentist's chair or let your hands lie in your lap. The drill drills on.

Do you ever feel like no matter what you do, the results you're looking for will never be achieved-- or the only way to get what you want is to do things you don't want to do?

Today I feel like pulling my hair out I'm so frustrated and confused.

My internal conflict for the week has been about the difference between being too picky and not settling for something less than I deserve. How am I supposed to know when what I have is as good as I can expect it to be? When is it ok to ask for more? How much is too much to ask for? What is too little to settle for? How much do I deserve?

If someone could answer those questions for me, I would be much obliged.

Disgruntled Drive Through Attendants

I hate driving through fast food restaurants to find myself being verbally and mentally abused by the disgruntled employee at the window who can find no better outlet for his frustration than to make customers feel like incompetent retards.

Tonight, I drove through Taco Bell. The first indication that this was going to be a bad drive though experience came while I was ordering. I pulled up to the menu and the voice on the loud speaker asked me how I was doing. I said I was well and asked how he was doing. In long, loud, drawn out words, he answered, "Fine. I'm fine. I am just fine. Yup, doing fine. Order when you're ready." At that moment I contemplated quitting while I was still ahead and abandoning Taco Bell for another drive through. My craving for a 1/2 lb. bean burrito, however, ended up getting the better of me.

I ordered quickly and politely in an attempt to calm the seas before I pulled up to the window. It didn't work. With out even restating the total of my purchase, he grabbed the bills from my hand and slammed the window. After an unnecessarily long time he practically threw the change back in my car. Then, with out so much as looking in my direction he mumbled something. "Excuse me?" I asked, trying to be as polite as I possibly could. After an eye roll and long sigh he finally half-yelled and over annunciated, "Would you like and taco sauce?" Going against my gut instinct to say no, get my food, and get the heck out of Dodge, I meekly squeaked, "Yes please," avoiding eye contact at all costs.

There was an extremely uncomfortable and awkward silence for about a minute. After another series of eye rolls and sighs, he lashed out at me again. "Geeze lady, I'm not a psychic." Not really understanding what he meant by that, I once again asked for clarification.

"What kind of sauce do you want," he said as he gave me a look that said, "You are so stupid that you would be doing the world a favor by committing suicide." Being more of an Amigos patron, I wasn't sure what classifications of taco sauce Taco Bell offered, so I did the unthinkable and asked what kinds they had. I don't think I will ever forget that they offer Mild, Hot, and Fire. It is completely possible that I will have a reoccurring nightmare for the rest of my life of that attendant lividly hissing my taco sauce options at me through the drive through window. When I am 90 years old, on my death bed dying of Alzheimer’s, I will still remember this.

After what seemed like an eternity, I finally secured my burrito and was able to leave that hell that is commonly known as the Taco Bell drive though. Fortunately, it was one of the best burritos I have ever eaten. However, I'm not quite sure if it was worth the abuse I went through to obtain it.

In other news, I watched my sister perform in Kiss Me Kate tonight. Way to go Megan. You were the best whistler by far. All of your practice and previous whistling experience really paid off!!

Women Are Strange Creatures.

Question: Why can girls be so weird?

I really don't understand why some girls think it is necessary to go everywhere in a HUGE group. Or why girls can have such a hard time just saying what they really think. After giving this a little thought, I can completely understand how some guys are so confused. Heck, I don't even know why I sometimes do some of the weird "girl things" that I do.

For example, we can be sooo tricky. To me at least, it seems like girls are much better at gathering information, and creating and executing elaborate plans to gain that information. It is now starting to make sense to me why most of the journalism students are female. Most of us are already practicing the information gathering skills the industry demands. I don't think men realize what lengths some women will go to, to find out what they want to know.

For example, my friends and I have googled a good number of their possible love interests. We have monitored blogs of the person in question, clicked the links on their pages to find out what their friends are like, or looked up their ex-girlfriends to see what the competition is.

I guess sometimes it is the other way around too. We've looked up their ex-boyfriends, hoping to find that their lives are much worse off now that which ever one of my friends who used to date him isn't in it any more. We check out the new girlfriend, hoping she's a hideous, morbidly obese swamp monster. It has never turned out that way, but we can usually point out enough flaws (most of which we are probably just imagining) to determine that our friend is indeed prettier and the new girlfriend is a definite down grade.

Maybe I'm way off base here, but I don't think guys do that kind of stuff.

10 reasons why I hate my boobs:

(Kyle: You said I wouldn't, which means I have no choice.)

1. They are the first thing everyone looks at.
2. They are completely out of proportion for my body type.
3. Designers don't make tops for thin girls with large chests.
4. People ask me if they are fake.
5. It is almost impossible to find a cute bra in size DD.
6. It is almost impossible to find a bra in size DD that fits around my torso.
7. They get in the way. (I think my golf swing would be a lot better with out them.)
8. My boyfriend talks to my boobs as much as he talks to me.
9. My roommate feels it is necessary to point out how "huge and perky" my "porn star boobs" are to anyone and everyone who enters our apartment.
10. They are impossible to hide. I doesn't matter how baggy the t-shirt is, you can still tell they are there.

Another Run In

It is official: I am a cop magnet.

Last night, Kyle decided that he needed to make a midnight food run to Wal-Mart. His roommate had "borrowed" his car, so we took mine. As I was driving the route I take almost every day to go to work, Wal-Mart, my parent’s house, etc., I accidentally ran a stop sign. The story that I was telling Kyle about who knows what was interrupted by flashing lights, and Kyle telling me he saw this coming.

I pulled into a parking lot, rolled my window down, and instructed Kyle to search for my registration and proof of insurance, while I rummaged through my purse in search of my license. By the time the police officer reached the window, two of the three had been found. Unfortunately, the proof of insurance was never uncovered. (Two out of three ain't bad, right?) As we waited for the officer to write my tickets, Kyle informed me that he had a feeling this was going to happen and had thought about asking to drive my car before we left. As usual, he was also able to think of a Friends episode that was similar to this situation and told me all about it.

Luckily, the cops that I have been attracting lately have all been very nice and understanding (let's not forget good looking.) I did get a ticket for running the stop sign, but he let me off with a warning on not having proof of insurance. This also happens to be the first ticket I have ever gotten, which means I am still eligible for Stop Class. As long as I take the grueling 8 hour driver's ed. refresher course, the ticket will be erased from my record.

Once we were back on our way to Wal-Mart, Kyle, never missing an opportunity to let me know how fortunate I am to have someone like him, pointed out that if he wasn't there, I would have been really bored while I was waiting for my ticket. What he failed to realize, however, is that if it wasn't for him, I never would have been driving to Wal-Mart in the first place, and therefore, wouldn't be waiting for a ticket. Actually, I’m not mad about it at all. The way I drive, I'm surprised this is my first ticket. Plus, Kyle and I have already put the blame on someone else, his roommate Logan.

Drama, Drinking, and D'Leon's

This weekend has definitely made up for the shitty-ness of the past few weeks. Friday night, Kyle and I went to watch the Hutchinson Community College baseball team play an exhibition game and saw some of Kyle's friends. We didn't actually end up watching much of the game because the game before that was delayed. After that, we went back to my room to find a small party in full swing.

That was interesting to say the least. One of the guys that were there decided it would be a good idea to help some strange man get into the apartment complex illegally by letting him sneak in through our room. Then, when Kyle and I were going to the lobby to pick up our pizza, we accidentally let another strange man in. So far, we haven't heard anything about rape, murder, or thievery.

Last night, Elizabeth and I went to see the play "The Shadow Box." It was amazing. I went to it with pretty low expectations. I didn't expect a play completely put on by students would be that great. Needless to say, I was surprised.

After that, I met up with Kyle at a Beta party. Normally, we end up leaving around 12:30 or 1:00, but this time we decided to try something new and actually hang around for after hours. That plan, however, didn't work out. Around 11:30, we were standing in the living room and there was a knock on the door. Kyle pointed out that no one was answering it, so, being slightly intoxicated, I decided to take it upon myself to see who was out there. As I am half walking, half hopping to the door, Tony informs me that only cops knock, and it probably isn't the best idea for me to answer it. So, Kyle and I sit on the couch with everyone else and continue to listen as the knocking gets increasingly louder. Finally someone of age answers the door, and sure enough, it is the cops. We got lucky. They were nice (more like lazy) cops and just told everyone to go home. That probably wasn't the smartest decision in the world, considering almost everyone was wasted.

On the way home, Kyle and I decided that a trip to D'Leon's was in order. We ordered a ton of food, went home, and ate it while we watched weird documentaries on TLC, The Food Network, and Discovery Health.

Yup, this weekend was pretty much perfect.

Fun Times

Last night was great. I finally saw Metta after what seems like 5 years. We went to a Pike party for Jim's birthday. Both of us intended to not drink, but, as you can imagine, that didn't last long. Before you know it, Tony had convinced me to at least "try" the punch they had made. Of course, it was the most delicious alcoholic beverage I have ever tasted, so my little sip ended up being a few glasses.

We left the party around 11 and then I went over to Kyle's. I wasn't exactly drunk, but I was by no means sober. I think all of my random thoughts, jumping on the bed, strange requests, and insisting on being in my underwear (because it felt like it was 500 degrees) even though his roommate was there, was slightly distracting. It seemed like it took him an hour to finish the last 1/2 page of a paper he was working on.

To fill the space, he decided he should interview someone. Guess who was handy? Me. That's right. Kyle has a drunken girl's incoherent rambling about the difference between groups and teams in a paper he turned in for one of his genius classes. Good call.

After that, he decided it would be a good time to teach me how to play a computer game. Being in the weird mood that I was, I agreed. The lesson, however, turned into me watching Kyle play and every once in a while being allowed to click one button, but only on his mark. I can't say that I actually learned anything, but I did shoot someone with a grenade launcher...

Forgiveness does not change the past, but it does enlarge the future.

Kyle, you were right. I was dwelling. Good news though, I'm done. I'm not mad/sad any more. I know that all of those things happend a long time ago and, although it is unfortunate that they had to be uncovered in the way that they were, I think we are going to be a lot better off now that they are out in the open. I know you love me and you wouldn't do anything to intentionally hurt me.

Even though you might feel like this is a "step backwards," I really don't think it is. I like to think of it as clearing the road so that we can continue to move foward. I love you so much; more than I've ever loved anyone. I don't' think you know how important you are to me.

-Court

PS. Remind me to tell you about the dream I had last night...officer...

Your body is a temple...

...but how long can you live in the same house before you redecorate?

After 19.5 years, it is definitely time for a change. That’s right; I finally got the tattoo I've been talking about for 3 years!

And now, the moment you've all been waiting for: the grand revealing of my paw prints.

While I was taking these pictures, I realized there were a bunch of pictures on my camera that I hadn't put on my computer. So here are a few random snap shots:

Family Picture: My cousins, sisters, Kyle (not sure how he snuck in--at least he looks like he could be part of the fam.), and me.

Me and my girlfriends.

Last, but not least, Megan, Baileigh, and me in Hawaii. Yes, we're nerds and no, we can't help it.

Lying is done with words and also with silence.

What's a girl supposed to do when the one person she wants to go to for comfort is the same person that is making her feel bad?

A piece of advice to any man who stumbles upon this blog: All you have to do to make your girlfriend/wife feel better is make a little effort. Words are nice, but they are also easy. Go ahead and say all the things you think she needs to hear, but they won't make it better. You have to do something to show her that you're serious. It doesn't have to be elaborate or expensive (actually, it doesn't have to cost anything.) In cases like this, actions really do speak louder than words. A little thought and effort can go a long way. You know she'd do the same for you.

A final thought from one man who knew what he was talking about:

"When in doubt, tell the truth."
-Mark Twain-

I have good news and I have bad news.

But I don't even need to ask which you want to hear first, because I can sum it all up in one sentence. It turns out I'm not as paranoid as I thought.

This is good news, because it means I'm not crazy (or as crazy as I thought I was.) Also, I have regained confidence in my own intuition.

Mostly though, it is bad news. Let's just say that a giant wrench has been thrown in the gears of my plan to become a more trusting person, and my perception that the world is out to get me has only been confirmed.

I wish so much that I was just being paranoid, even if it meant that I was being crazy. I don't understand how some people can do such horrible things to others. If I ever did some of the things that other people have done to me to someone else, even if it was to someone I didn't like, I don't know how I could get out of bed every morning. I never want to do something intentionally that makes another person feel like I have felt.

I always used to think that it was completely ridiculous when people talked about being so emotionally hurt that they felt physical pain, but after last night, I think I take that back. I was so upset that it felt like I had been stabbed in the chest, literally. I couldn't move (except for the involuntary trembling,) it was hard to breath and every breath burned, and to top it all off, I thought my head was going to explode with endless number of thoughts that were flying through my brain. I can say with out a doubt that is the first time I have ever been heart broken.

My post from September 17th should be disregarded and my post from the 16th is once again holding true.

I'm out of my mind right now...

...leave your name, number, and a message after the beeb and I'll get back to you as soon as I regain my sanity.


BEEP

10 Reasons Why I Love My Dog:

10. She has soft ears.
9. Her bark is really high pitched and squeeky.
8. She pounces like a cat.
7. She thinks she is a princess and makes the other dog do her bidding.
6. She isn't afraid to tell me what she wants.
5. She is always happy to see me, no matter what happend the last time we saw each other.
4. She ALWAYS knows when I'm upset, even when I don't tell her.
3. It doesn't matter why I'm upset. No matter how silly it is, she'll still try to make me feel better.
2. She always tells me the truth. She definitely isn't afraid to let me know when she isn't happy, and she always makes sure I'm well aware when she is happy.
1. She loves me no matter what.

Chaperons don't enforce morality; they force immorality to be discreet.

I have officially been released from my babysitting duties! I am chalking this one up as a success. All of my rules were followed, no one died, the dog didn't run away, and the house is still standing. What more can their parents ask for?

My rules for the weekend were as follows:

1. Don't do anything that might merit police intervention.
2. If you do something you're not supposed to, don't tell me about it. That way, I can't be blamed.
3. Don't get the dog high.
4. Don't runaway, get kidnapped, lose a body part, or die until your parents get back.

Ya, I know, I'm pretty tough to please.

This too shall pass

One thing I always seem to forget is that time is a limited and precious thing. It is something to be cherished and taken full advantage of, not wasted. The only certianty in life is that nothing is certian. I don't know when I'm going to die. None of us do. It could be 60 years from now, or it could be tomorrow. We never know how much time we have left, so why let the small stuff become so important?

If I died tomorrow, I would regret not spending more time with friends, not showing my family how much I appreciate them, not going to see my dog when I really wanted to because gas was $3 a gallon, and being too afraid of getting hurt to let my relationship with Kyle be as great as it can be, just to name a few. It might be cliche, but it is true: live every day like it's your last, because you never know which one will truely be the last.

Every moment should be cherished. Taking things for granted could be one of the biggest mistakes people make. We only get one chance at life. There is no rewind, no copy paste, no undo button. This is our one shot to make the most of it.

Sometimes, I spend so much time going every little detail of my life (all of the should haves, could haves, would haves, maybes and mights) that I forget to live. I'm always more than willing to give people advice on how to be happy, but I usually forget it all when it comes time to apply it to my own life. Lately, I've been very frustrated at my failed attempts to help someone very close to me. As it turns out, I think she has helped me more than I have helped her. Actually, now that I think about it, I was probably the one that needed more help in the first place. She has helped me to see that you just have to keep going. Don't waste your time being sad, annoyed, upset, or angry. There is always something to celebrate, to be thankful for. Any opportunity to let someone know how much they mean to you should not be wasted. What's the point if we look back and all we see is regret, fear, sadness, disappointment, and anger?

But I do nothing upon myself, and yet I am my own executioner.

I'm not going to waste words beating around the bush: I am a paranoid idiot. That's it, plain and simple.

It is definitely time, and I'm pretty sure I'm ready, to give up my "trust no one" attitude. I think I have finally accepted the fact that I can't be in control of everything and the world is not out to get me. My September 17th resolutions are as follows: relax, breath deeply and just be. (No more hypotheticals for me.) Sometimes shit just happens and there is nothing you can do but pick yourself up and continue living your life. It might take me awhile to fully embrace my new way of life, but I hope to be able to take things as they come.

"Our doubts are traitors and make us lose the good we oft might win by fearing to attempt."

-William Shakespeare-

My Aphorism

"Insane people are always sure that they are fine. It is only the sane people who are willing to admit that they are crazy." -Nora Ephron

You can't shake hands with a clenched fist.

To trust or not to trust, that is the question. Usually, I lean towards the not.

I find myself in a continuous circle of suspicion, disappointment, guilt, and reassurance. Round and round and round it goes. Will it stop? I don't know. I hate being a suspicious, critical, and questioning person, but that’s all I've even known. I've come to learn that the things that aren't said are just as important, or even more so than the things that are. The only way to figure out who I'm really dealing with is to dig around a little.

I wish so much that I could just let it go for a while. I wish I could be happy with what information I am given, but before I know it, the need to know more has spread through me like snake venom. For me, ignorance is not bliss.

I know that there is so much that goes unsaid and it is beyond my range of self-control not to find out what it is. I never snoop through personal things or anything like that. With the invention of blogs, this kind of information is easily accessible. Still, I feel guilty for feeling the need to do so.

Just when I become confident with where I am, or maybe I should say where we are, I do one last little check and so far something that has gone unsaid always surfaces. I feel bad for not being more trusting, but should I put that much trust into someone if I am still finding little secrets?

I wish ignorance was bliss. I wish I didn't need to know. I want to push all the doubts to the dark, dusty corners of my brain and never think about them again. I want to be content. But no matter how far back I push them, or how many other things I pile on top, they always find a way to wiggle to the surface.

Suspicion.

Disappointment.

Guilt.

Reassurance.

Wash, rinse and repeat.

So much for clear vision

Just when I was excited about my eyes, they had to stab me in the back. I woke up this morning with my left eye glued shut by eye goobers. It took me about 20 minutes to get it decrusted. I thought I was going to be ok and decided to go to class, but about half way through lecture it really started to hurt and I couldn't really see out of it because I goobers were being created at such a rapid rate. I could barely read what was on the over head projector because the film of mucus over my left eye was so thick

So I decided it would be wise to go to the health center. It turns out I have pink eye. Gross! My left eye is only open about 1.5 centimeters and is so bloodshot that it looks pink (I guess that's why they call it pink eye). To top it all off, it won't stop goobering. You think a runny nose it bad? A runny eye is WAY worse. I also have to wear my glasses for two weeks. As if I don't look like enough of a nerd with my deformed eye. Actually, I don't really care that much about the glasses, as long as my vision returns ASAP.

One bonus is that I don't have to go to work tomorrow so that I don't infect any one. I'm really glad because my schedule was really tight since I'm taking care of those kids. So yeah for that.

Despite the pink eye, not seeing my boyfriend in 500 years, and being extremely sleep deprived, everything else is pretty good. I get to hang out with my sister more this weekend so yeah for that too. I think tomorrow, while I'm supposed to be at work, I'm going to take a 100 hour nap (aka. a coma). It will be glorious.

"Sometimes, when one person is missing, the whole world seems depopulated."

I miss my boyfriend...
(And my sister and my dog, but those two go without saying)

I can see clearly now....

Well, maybe not now, but I will soon. My family just switched health insurance companies and I just found out that under our new plan, Lasik eye surgery is covered! That means that once I turn 20 (4 months and 16 days) I can have parts of my eyeballs lazered off so that I no longer have to wear contacts. Heck yes!

Staying on the theme of good news, I also found out that my dad knows someone who works at one of the best ad agencies in Lincoln and he can get me an internship there over the summer. My original plan was to go intern in Chicago, but I would much rather stay here. How much good news can a girl get in one day?

To my twin...eh, no just sister.

Guess what? I love you no matter what, even if you make drama, don't say what you mean, and say things just to make me feel better. Some times, thats the only way to do it. It sucks, but it's true. Unfortunately, not everyone is always going to be happy with you. You're going to hurt people you love, and people you love are going to hurt you. That's just the way life goes. It's pretty much unavoidable. Some times, you have to put yourself first, even if it means hurting someone else. You can't always make everyone happy and manage be a normal, functioning, sane human being. If you're always putting yourself last, you'll drive yourself crazy. As long as you can get out of bed every day, be happy with yourself most days, and in general, know you're doing the best you can, you're doing a damn good job!
Love always and no matter what,
courtNEY

Eee gads! I have sooo much homework to do, but I am finding myself doing everything possible to avoid it--ie. this post. I really really need to study for my test tomorrow but whenever I open the book I just find myself spacing off and reading the same line over and over and over again. I've been on the same page for about 30 minutes. Sad, I know. I tried to watch some Homestarrunner to clear my mind and cheer me up, but strong bad e-mails hasn't been updated in FOREVER. Extremely disappointing. Time to hit the books for real...... :P

"Insanity -- a perfectly rational adjustment to an insane world."

I must be adjusting pretty well, because I feel like I am out of my mind! I seriously need a vacation. The only living thing I can be around right now and not feel bad in some way is my dog, and she isn't even being that comforting. She is more focused on eating my sister's hamster than anything.

All I wanted to do this weekend was hide from my friends and all the drama, but some how I failed. On Friday, I just wanted to go on a date with the one person who isn't contributing to my insanity and then go to bed early. Some how, that fell through. We almost made it to the movie theater, when once again tragedy struck. What did I end up doing? I did the exact opposite of having a nice, relaxing evening. I went through every emotion that I was trying to avoid. I was worried, anxious, stressed, and, worst of all, jealous. So what's the logical solution to that problem? Get really drunk and then smoke some KB of course--so much for going to bed early.

I am REALLY excited for next weekend and not because there is some great party. I am excited because I am nannying for my neighbors, which means I have the perfect excuse to hide from all this craziness. With my luck, one of the kids will decide to go into a rebellious faze and run away with some 30-year-old man she met on the internet....

Actually, I know what the real solution to the problem is. I probably just need to calm down and stop worrying about other people so much. This weekend, I was even worrying about people I don't know. Yes, I know, I am ridiculous.

"Work is a necessary evil to be avoided."

Unfortunately, I have decided to ignore Mr. Twain's advice and I am doing exactly the opposite... I started my new job today. Ugg. I am working for the USDA preparing soil samples. Basically, I put tiny scoops of dirt into tin capsules and then squish it into a ball. Simple enough, but no, there is a catch. I'm not allowed to touch anything with my hands. I have to use tweezers to do everything. Its, well, interesting. Oh well, you gotta do what you gotta do. I need the pay checks. I don't think I could afford to date my boyfriend for very much longer if I didn't have a source of income. ;)

I think I am cursed. I have never had a job where I get the pleasure of working with normal, socially able, human beings. I always get stuck working with the awkward, uncomfortable, person who hasn't quite gotten a handle on personal hygiene and wears extremely oversized t-shirts with any of a number of forest animals on the front. Don't get me wrong, they have all been very nice. They just aren't the most exciting or interesting people to work with. This is definitely not going to make the hours of tin foil ball making go by any faster.

Make it a great day or not, the choice is yours...

Today I chose to have a good day, unlike yesterday. I did my homework, I cleaned the kitchen (kind of), I didn't eat chocolate ice cream straight out of the tub, and, believe it or not, I put on real clothes instead of putting my pajama's back on after I showered. I even went out to dinner with the ex and managed to not go into my normal stage of bitchiness that usually follows our conversations.

As an added bonus, I aced my PoliSci test without so much as opening the book. That doesn't really say much, since this class has started out to be almost identical to the government class I took as a sixth grader. Honest to god, one of the questions was, "True or False. The Judicial branch is one of the three branches of the government." I thought classes were supposed to get progressively harder as students climb the educational ladder...

Speaking of school and easy classes, my professor for my theater class assigned our final project last week and we had the whole class period today to meet with our group and make a plan. My group has decided to make a black and white silent (writing dialogue would me WAY too much work for us) film. I'm not very into the whole acting/producing of theatrical works, so I've decided to take a backseat and let the other, more knowledgeable group members take control. I pretty much just follow directions. As of right now, my role in this dramatic master piece is to play a very troubled girl who drinks too much (actually very fitting...). Basically, I end up killing someone because I'm driving drunk. Oh yes, for some reason I am in bikini the whole time. Strange, I know, but maybe I'm just not seeing the vision....

Drama drama drama....

I am sick of all the drama. I feel like I'm living a cheesy day time soap opera. I honestly don't think my friends are capable of going 24 hours with out creating a life or death situation. I'm tired of being caught in the middle and worring about things that really don't matter. I'm kind of sick of my own, self-created drama too. Lately, I seem to have aquired a knack for letting the smallest little thing really get to me. Maybe it's a sign that I've been around my friends for too long... or maybe I've been away from my favorite person (cough-Megan-cough) for too long. (Megan, I need to have a sister's night ASAP, it could be a matter of my sanity.)

What am I doing with my life?

Over the course of this weekend I have gone through a rapid and frightening metamorphosis. I started out as a studious, motivated, well rounded individual and am now ending the weekend as a lazy, pothead, alcoholic. I have done nothing productive and have slept more hours each day than I have been awake. It’s really quite sad.

Chicken Retard

I bet most people have yet to discover the time it takes to melt chicken to a plate in the microwave. Unfortunately, I am not one of those people. I do NOT reccommend following the microwave instructions on the back of the bag of chicken.