For some reason, I feel compelled to offer up some sort of post about Britney. I'm not going to make a post about her, though, cuzz really? Not my place. I think what makes me feel so compelled is the fact that I feel so damned bad for her. We all have HIPAA whenever we get any kind of medical attention and if that confidentiallity gets breached some how? HOLY SHIT! Everyone and their brother gets sued and there's a huge payout and people lose their jobs. With her? Not so much. I would've hated to be the crew on that ambulance. It's hard enought to work a scene with local media outlets, I can't even begin to imagine what a circus it was just to pull into her driveway. It's so obvious that there is ACTUALLY SOMETHING WRONG with her. Leave her the fuck alone already.

In other news, I wore jeans today that are a wee bit too tight. This does not amuse me. How did I manage to find pants that were too tight? Well, the answer to that could be found by simply looking at my horribly messy bedroom. Instead of carpet, I have clothes. (Ok, so there's carpet under the clothes, but you wouldn't know it. I am willing to bet that the carpet in my bedroom is the exact same color as it was when I moved in three years ago) I kept my bedroom clean when I first moved in ye ole homestead, but when greg moved in, it all went to shit for some reason. Not sure why. Anyway, I woke up this morning and looked at the clock. It read 620, so I rolled over to doze for another 10 minutes cuzz I didn't really need to get out of bed until 545. That's right, I typed 545. It took me about 2 minutes to realize that it was well past 545 and I needed to get the hell out of bed. I woke Greg up (on his one day off cuzz I rawk!) and asked him to go start my car so I could shower in record time. He mumbled something and I thought he didn't hear me and was still sleeping. I didn't have time to double check, though, as I ran into the bathroom with whatever clothes happened to be in the clean clothes basket. (Shut up, I have a system!) I showered and brushed my teeth and was out the door at 635. I pulled out off the little street that leads to the big main road and was on my way. Suddenly, the rail block thingies went down and a pretty little train started to inch it's way through. Fuckin trains. (Dudes, you seriously do not, nor will you really ever, comprehend my insane hatred for trains. I grew up in a town SURROUNDED by trains. Our mascot? The Railroader. Fucking trains...) I managed to get to work with a minute to spare thanks to speeding, but I think I forgot to clock in. Ugh. Anyway, that's how I wound up wearing too tight jeans and they have become the bane of my existance. MUST.KILL.THE.JEANS. And quite possibly the bra, too.

Huckabee. That's not an endorsement by any means, I just really like to say Huckabee. It's fun.

I am going to try to figure out how to link other blogs on my sidebar thingie. I feel like I should share these blogs I refresh over and over like a stalker with other people.

I want an air horn.

My birthday is coming up. It seems there was supposed to have been a surprise party set up for me, but that's not happening now due to a lack of intarwebs. (Not mine, obviously, but my friend who was setting it up) Same thing happened last year. Well, not exactly the same thing. She was gonna throw me a surpirse party last year, but our dart league banquet was on the day of my birthday, so I guess that meant it was a no go. Wonder if it will be attempted next year?

MUST.BURN.THE.JEANS.

So, Greg and I are gonna stop being so obsessively careful about not making babies. I doubt anything will come of it, but it's kind of nice to imagine, I guess. I just got to see my friend, Amanda's, new bitty boy and my friend, Rob's, bitty boy was just in here yesterday (he was born Saturday and is SUCH a cute bitty fuzzball!) and the babies. They are contagious. Well, in the wanting them aspect at least. I mean, really, Greg and I aren't really all that careful anyway, so babies could have happened by now, but they haven't. I really don't think they will. I'm thinking we're just not gonna change anything now that I'm typing this. It's bringing tears to my eyes just thinking about it not happening. Ugh.

On that note, I think I'm gonna stop. I'd been trying to come up with a summary of 2007, but I couldn't really think of anything to write. Suffice it to say that 2007 was the Year of the Doctor and of Adopting Little Bitty Kitties! The kitties aren't so bad. :-P