Nagini Is Hungry

I heard this wonderfully gross story at work on Monday night. It was the perfect cure to stop eating so freaking many M&M's instead of dinner. Kallie, a high school senior, told me it:

A girl she used to work with had a pet snake. She used to sleep with this snake each night because "it was just like a dog." There came a time when said snake stopped eating. It also stopped curling up on her bed and began to stretch on longways next to her. Kallie's co-worker began to worry because her beloved pet snake had stopped. She took it to the vet after a week of not eating.

What did she learn?

Oh, nothing. Just that the snake wasn't eating because it was preparing for a big meal. What meal? Oh, just HER. Apparently the snake was stretching because it was sizing her out to eat her.

Ew. Ew. Ew. Ew. Ew. Ew. Ew.

Can you imagine going into work and being like, "Where's Sally Jo?" "Oh, her pet snake ATE HER last night."

Ew. Ew. Ew.

So much for loyal pets.

Ew.

California Dreamin'

I had the craziest dream last night and I have no idea what it means at all, though I should probably just take it as it is:

I was returning home to New York (JFK airport for some strange reason; I usually fly out of LGA) from what I think was Raleigh (minor detail I forgot after waking up). I had a flight that left early in the morning and the last time I looked at my watch in my dream was 6:45am. I fell asleep. I woke up and I was on a JetBlue flight (which I guess is why I was supposed to be at JFK, since it doesn't fly to LGA), but it was strangely quiet. Everyone seemed to be waiting for something. I was in the front and like, "Eff this! Let's get off this pliz-zane!" I looked at my watch and saw that it said 9pm, but thought not much of it, thinking that maybe it was 9am & my watch was just spazzing. I left the plane. It was sorta set up like the "Soarin' Over California" ride at Disneyland - very wide.

I walked off and into the airport and immediately got confused. It wasn't JFK. I kept walking, this time a little more, "Ummm WTF?!" Then I see a huge sign on the wall: "Welcome to Los Angeles International Airport."

Naturally, I'm a little bit panicked to find out that I have not landed in New York, but LAX in California.

So I run back to the plane and am magically not stopped by security or anyone and I go back to my seat, as they're in the middle of announcing that we were unable to land at John F. Kennedy Airport and had to fly to LAX instead. (As Jay pointed out when I told him this morning, "So...they couldn't land in NY, so they...flew to California?")

As one can only do in dreamland, I find a free customer service representative as soon as I get into the terminal, who looks and sounds suspiciously like my Aunt Carol, who I only see like 4 times a year. I explain to her that I'm part of the NY JetBlue flight and I needed to get home. She took me to this back door - almost secret entrance - to a ticket counter that also doubled as a line at a grocery store. Yes, it was still set up in LAX. I explained to him the situation - realize that it's actually only 6pm since it was PDT time - and he looks up my next flight options back to NY.

At this point in my dream, I'm magically also on the phone with Jay, explaining what's happening to him. It was the same situation as when I returned from Comic Con; a Wednesday and I technically didn't have anything to do until the following Monday. So I suggest to the ticket agent/grocery store clerk that I can wait til the following morning to get a flight out (hey, when in Rome Los Angeles...). Jay and the Aunt Carol look/soundalike try to shush me up, but I insist the whole time, "It's fine. I don't have anything to do the rest of this week and Jana lives in Burbank, she can maybe come pick me up! I've never seen LA!" Jay keeps insisting he'll call his Aunt Cindy or some other relative he has in LA or even Ralph & Stevi while the Aunt Carol look/soundalike is hushing me up, like I'm an idiot for not wanting to rush back to NY on a red-eye flight.

The man tells me there's a flight leaving very soon or else there's another one at 11am the next morning. I'm all about calling Jana in Burbank to show me LA/introduce me to David Duchovny ((sigh)), but just as I'm about to find out what flight I am taking, I woke up.

So, what does it mean?

Adventures in Spyware!

Spyware sucks. I got a nasty case of it last night right before Lost started & spent all freaking night trying to get rid of it, including buying some stupid program that Anthony recommended with money I definitely do not have (grrrr). Nothing's working and I keep getting lovely pop-ups (I think my first thought this morning was, "Wow that girl has to have A LOT of space in her mouth to fit that. Somebody get me some popcorn and a notebook...") and lots of great security warnings, all of which are a part of the virus. [Actually, given the explicit nature of some of these pop-ups, I was wondering if the Trojan virus that has infected my computer is not actually named after the famous horse but rather named for the contraceptive. Because I'm sure that my computer would definitely be rockin' some herpes or the clap by now.]

All my passwords have been changed on another computer; cookies, Internet history, cache, etc. have been deleted. I had to drive all the way back to Astoria from the 'rents house on Long Island tonight so I can meet up with Anthony on the Upper West Side at 9-freaking-am so he can completely restore my entire system. I think the only person happy about this is Jay since he's been begging me to let him do that to this piece of shit Dell that doesn't even get sound anymore (thanks Cal for making me bring my laptop into the office every single day for an entire year but getting everyone else laptops for work!). Meh I want a Macbook.

Soooo I may or may not have a computer ever again, depending on if Anthony is as good as he says he is. Everyone please pray that he's as good as he says he is or I'm going to freak out just a little bit.

Oh on a side note - if you're going to create Spyware, may I suggest 1) to go fuck yourself & then let Santa Claus rape your mother or 2) learning how to use proper spelling. If a "System Alert" pops up telling me to click this 'baloon' in order to "download malware removal software," it's pretty much a dead giveaway to not go click and download even more Spyware. You make thousands of dollars, maybe even millions to ruin people's lives - I'm sure you can invest in a dictionary or go to dictionary.com.

Here's the picture of what I see on my screen every time I open a new broswer. WARNING for everyone else. I think it gets bigger if you click to enlarge it.

So you treat your love like a firefly, like it only gets to shine for a little while

Okay, so let's tell the story about how the dude setting up my new desk last Wednedsay asked me out. Twice. He'd only been there for 16 minutes. Great. Then he asked me what religion I was. I answered, "Catholic," & he asked me if Catholics were allowed to date outside the religion (he was Muslim). It was good, fun, awkward times.

My roommate is SO supportive of my troubles:

[Amanda's sn]: there must be something about your purple star boxers that just turns him on in the worst way.....

I fucking love my purple star boxers. Bitch. Oh yeah & a bird crapped on me the same morning when I went to take the garbage out. Nice.

Sunday Night Bitchfest

Today was one of those days. I worked my crappy job yesterday (Sat.) 3pm-11pm. Got home around 11:20pm. Had to get up at 5:30am to be at work again at 7am. Naturally, I couldn't fall asleep. Chatted with Princess Cupcake Assface Randy, John Norton & Bobby via AIM & tried for sleep for real around 1am. Finally, I was just about asleep when my phone rang at 1:52am. It's Tricia, calling from a party that I didn't go to bc of the whole 5:30am thing. It was at Chris Tryller, Mike Tuite & Matt Niegocki's house in Miller Place (I guess I missed the memo when they moved out of Ridge). I haven't seen them in a while so I should've gone. Alas, alack.

Usually, I send drunk dials to voice mail, for several reasons: 1) If I'm asleep; 2) If I'm bitter that I'm not the one inebriated; 3) The potential mockery/blackmailing of the recording is always promising. However, I had told Trish before she left work that if she needed a ride home, to just call me since MP is only like 10 minutes & I'd come get her if she really needed it. So I'm figuring that she's either 1) drunk & needing a ride or 2) drunk & wondering why I didn't end up going. Come to think of it, I don't think I preferred it to be either of those, so I'm not sure why I even answered, but I did. Then I was AWAKE again. Meh. I think I fell asleep around 2:30am.

There was absolutely NOTHING to do at work that early. Bill (one of my managers) was really sick with a stomach bug so I just sorta sat on the counters & read Glamour for 2 hours. 2 hours that I could've been sleeping but instead was reading the "30 Things Every Woman Should Know About Sex By Age 30". Very educational, particularly this one:

14. An oldie but a goodie: Kegels, Kegels, Kegels. If you do them, you’ll not only have stronger orgasms, you’ll also never again pee when you laugh.

FINALLY, A WAY FOR ME TO EXPRESS MY AMUSEMENT AND NOT BE WORRIED ABOUT SOILING MYSELF! YESSSSSS.

I wandered around on break in search of Grandma's Xmas gift (she wants a lipstick case of all things, go figure). No luck. After I got off at 3pm, Mom instructed me to get a manicure for an interview I have tomorrow. All I wanted to do was go for a run to destress & continue the lipstick case search at the mall. But I lose the battle & go.

Naturally, I'm there waiting for 35 minutes. When I'm up, I'm massively pissed bc I'm now starving from not really eating much all day (when I'm tired, I have no appetite) in addition to being pooped. To add to it, my mom was paying bc she was forcing me to waste my precious afternoon & I was instructed to get an appropriate, neutral color. Yeah, I'm one of those gals who love red & bright blue & purple nail polishes. This was not helping my mood. I also get the shitty manicurist bc the awesome one is of course busy. So I'm radiating little white girl bitch.

I continue tapping my foot in an impatient & obnoxious way when this woman walks in with some guy. She loudly announces, "I need two manicures, please! It's my husband's FIRST one! Can you believe he's NEVER HAD A MANI BEFORE?!"

Picture this: Blonde, ditzy, loud, LI accent, about 35, track suit...She wasn't all decked out by any means but she was a Shiela/Hera (2 characters Phil basically wrote for me in 05 & '06 for Festival, one act student written/acted/produced/directed plays, mainly bc I rock at emulating the stereotypical LI Italian/Jewish housewife being that I grew up surrounded by them.) So yes, Shiela/Hera is taking her hubby to get his nails did & announcing it to the world. There was an assertion about him needing a bikini wax too, but at that point, I wasn't going to ruin the sight of the poor guy getting his cuticles cut with the image of him & a bowl of hot wax.

I rush out of there & sit at every traffic light on 25A/347 on my way to the mall. I go to every single make up/accessories counter at Macy's with no luck. I'm still hungry, tired & frustrated. I needed to pick up my cousin Matt's gift, but I stopped to get a pretzel from Auntie Anne's. The line's long. I'm about to order when this little asshole punk about 10 cuts me. NOT happy. I start to say something when his fat, bossy mother appears. I turn to tell her that her brat needs to wait in line like everyone else. But I realize as I open my mouth that I don't need to get into a fight with a pushy LI soccer mom a week before Christmas. So I just snap to the pretzel guy, "That kid just cut in front of me, right?" Then Soccer Mama starts yelling at him for giving Dudley a cinnamon pretzel when he wanted a salted one. (BULLSHIT, I heard the kid ask for cinnamon. Keep your fucking kid under control, lady.)

Whatever. I'm still in a shitty mood, pushing through the masses to get a damn Hot Topic gift certificate. Can I just say that it's the most unorganized store ever? 3 people behind the counter, none of whom can figure out how to ring up customers in a timely fashion. And when did HT get such shit? I was never a HT shopper, but dug some of their stuff. Hell, the negleige I wore for Rocky Horror Show is from there & I looked f'ing hot in that thing. I have the "JEM" & the "Cowbell" shirt. Granted, I haven't been in one in over a year, but damn, the quality has gone down. I'm still hungry so while passing by Lindt's I figure "Hell, I'll get myself a dark chocolate truffle to nurse my annoyance." Yeah, so it came to like $.43 & I only had $.42. Does the girl cut me a break on the penny? No, of course not. I really wanted that chocolate so I sucked it up & broke the $1.

At least today is over. I "wasn't allowed" to call out tomorrow for my interview, so I had to agree to go in from 8am-12pm THEN get on a train to go into Manhattan (why does it feel like I'm spending more of my non-Ann Taylor time in the city than I am on LI?) I need to finally move to Brooklyn with Amanda. Someone find me a real job, I'm getting tired of looking. Anything journalism or PR would be swell. Bonus if it involves entertainment or theatre. I'll buy you TWO truffles. And have my little sister bake you brownies; she makes awesome brownies...

Over-analytical Depressive Fuckers Make Good Music

Ok, so I just got back from seeing Damien Rice at Beacon Theatre with Amanda Giordano. It was really, really good. Probably about 384,201 times better than this summer at Jones Beach. I think that Damien & co. just don't have the type of music that can really be appreciated at a place like Jones Beach. The emotion & musical intricacies that really make the music so outstanding are just lost in a big outdoor venue like that.

Anyway, the show was awesome (yeah redundancy!). He interacted with the audience a lot, which is always great. He called himself an "over-analytical depressive fucker" at one point and kept saying that it was weird that he got to write songs about being such a fuck up & then get paid to play them for everyone. He told us about the inspiration or moods he was in when he wrote certain songs. He said that his chatty state meant he was in "very strange form," since he usually doesn't even realize an audience is there, but tonight he was "aware of every single little [thing]."

There was a guy who was sitting a few rows behind us who kept calling out "DAMIEN!" really loudly. After the 4th song, Damien answered him back & made a couple jokes. Then he asked, "The person who just said 'DAMIEN!' [imitating his tone], what did you want?" The guy said, "I'm Dan from Long Island [of course the obnoxious guy would be from LI] & a little "Elephant" would be nice." Damien looked at Lisa, who was ready to start singing the next song, then went, "Well, then, your wish is my command" and busted into the song as Lisa went to straight chill at the piano.

The set list:

1. Woman Like a Man (no Lisa, but still AMAZING. Video link of clip here)
2. Insane
3. I Remember (Lisa sounded absolutely, absolutely flawless; just gorgeous)
4. 9 Crimes
5. Elephant [directly into]
6. The Blower's Daughter (I got almost all of it on video, click here)
7. Cannonball - An acoustic, no microphone, Damien-only version. Definitely the most powerful song of the night. I can't even describe it, I wish that I got it on video, but after "BD," I only had 33 seconds left & wanted to save it in case they did "Delicate".
8. La Professor (Lisa sang the 2nd verse, changing all the "I" pronouns to "he")
9. The Animals Were Gone
10. Coconut Skins
11. Amie (Crazy spaceship effects at the end; it was really intense)
12. Eskimo Friends
13. Volcano

Encores

1. Rootless Tree (my favorite song from the new album; the one that I wish had come out 4 years ago so I could've discovered it then & made it my anthem, ha. I only have part of it on video cause "BD" took up so much memory; I wanted to get the first half, but was busy trying to call Brian so he could hear it
2. Me, My Yoke & I
3. Accidental Babies (just Damien & the piano; it was very Fiona-esque a la "Parting Gift")

Amanda & I had great seats. I had been trying to get tickets since she asked if I wanted to go about a month ago and it was sold out. I know that some times tickets will be released a few days before a show because they're held for radio stations, etc. and we both really wanted to go, so I tried again at like 6:30pm Mon night and we got center orchestra seats in row G. Yeah, I hate me too. SO worth the - what $57 after Ticketmaster was done raping us? SO worth it.

Finally, because no NYC story is complete without a random subway experience: Not only were NONE of the ticket machines taking cash nor were they reading anyone's credit/debit cards on the first THREE swipes (think 90% of a sold-out Beacon Theatre crowd trying to get into a subway station & like 90% of them needing to buy a subway pass, ugh), but when we finally get onto the 2, this guy gets on & starts making the following announcement:

"Everybody, I'd like to take this opportunity to apologize for my appearance. My name is Steven & I am HIV positive. I am homeless & cannot afford medical shots. I can't live in a shelter since I was attacked. Now I am forced to ride the subways at night for a 24-hr McDonald's [I'm NOT making this up]. I'd like to take this opportunity to ask for your help. I am now going to recite some poetry for you..."

And he did. He recited some lovely Jesus/life is a wonder poetry. I just turned to the chick sitting next to me & said, "Of all the cars on all the subways in all the city and he gets onto ours."

[Update: here's Rolling Stone's review of the concert]

Grandma Woke Up a Democrat

Soooo Grandma's surgery went well. She's still in a lot of pain but she was prescribed Vicodin, so hopefully that'll help her every 4 hours for the next few weeks. It's SO funny to me to think about how at the end of last school year I took Vicodin a few times for shits & giggles and when I was the one who had to walk 4 blocks yesterday afternoon in la ciuadad to fill her prescription, I started laughing. To this day, I have no idea why I thought it was ever a good idea - or at least a fun idea - to take it. Oh well. I blame Randy for "peer pressuring" me into it (even though we never did it together) and Brian for being a supplier! Anyhow, yeah, it's just another testament to how I went crazy at the end of school because I was having so many strange emotions about the whole thing. Oh well, I'm over *that* phase. Not over being weirded out/completely freaked out by not being at Marist/being unsure about the future, but over doing that shit. Ah, well...

Just to tell a quick story that's a testimony to why I love my grandma so much: My Uncle Lou went to get the car, my grandpa went to find him, my aunt was doing whatever she was doing and I was with my grandma, her physical therapist & her nurse. We were waiting to get her into the car home & it was freezing outside. Grandma was still relatively groggy from the anithesea & in pain from surgery. We're waiting outside for my uncle to be able to get the car right in front. Grandma's in her wheelchair. Aunt Anne had put her scarf around her neck & laid her coat in front of her to cover her from the cold. Does Grandma notice the cold? No. She turns to her nurse & asks, "Would you like to wear my coat til my son gets here? It's very cold outside & you're not wearing anything, you must be cold. Take my coat."

I had to turn away upon hearing this because I almost burst into tears. That's what I want to be like. So selfless that when I'm in obvious pain & about to be discharged from the hospital to worry whether or not the woman who's pushing my wheelchair is cold.

My grandma rocks.

P.S. She also woke up a Democrat. For anyone who knows my extremely conservative, Catholic, Republican family, this is strange. But regardless, in the car on the way home from NYC, Grandma says, "I like that Barack Obama guy. I'd vote for him if he ran for President. I'd vote for him over any of these jackass Republican candidates. Except Hillary. I'd vote for anyone over here. But if it's not her next election, I'm voting Democrat."

All we need now is my dad to vote Democrat & I think hell will freeze over.

I'm a wild & untamed thing

"I'd rather stick my dick in a blender." -Funniest text message Chris Golio has ever sent me.

California on Monday morning! Then Tricia & I are going to drive back across country, leaving sometime Tuesday? Colleen = Excited. I know we're probably stopping in Vegas, we're stopping in Tennessee so she can see her grandmother & in Baltimore to visit her dad (yessssss, our last adventure in Baltimore back in April was SO much fun; I got to see some of the places that Tricia caused trouble when she was growing up & then during her Towson days). I think getting away from everything on Long Island that's completely stressed me out since I got home in May will be just what I need, since the only other thing that would be 'just what I need' is a real job & that one's obviously workin' like gangbusters.

Aaaaanyway, I don't really have any fun work stories at the moment - except that when you're in the wordrobing room, you can hear people in the break room, since there's a little window that connects the two. There's a vending machine right against the shared wall that breaks every other day & often times, whoever's in the dressing room can hear whoever's frustrated with the vending machine banging/shaking it in order to get their candy out (usually the Swedish Fish get stuck, FYI in case anyone ever finds themselves in the break room of Ann Taylor anytime soon).

So this afternoon, I hear someone beating the shit out of this machine for being such a withholding little bitch. I open the window & call out, "Stop beating up the vending machine!" (I was going to make a tasteless misogynistic joke too but alas, did not.) Usually, someone will say something back, but this time - nothing. So I thought nothing of it til about an hour later when one of the stock guys, Ryan, comes up to me.

Ryan: "Did you yell at Dillion (new guy) for shaking the vending machine?"
Me: "Yeah, I heard him giving it a beatdown through the wall."
Ryan: "He thought that it was an automated message. He came back white as a ghost, claiming that the vending machine was TALKING to him, telling him to stop shaking it!!"

Exactly. And in case you're wondering, hell yeah I made fun of the new guy for the rest of the day. I don't care if he's Lisa's brother. Dude thought the vending machine was talking to him...

Ok, that's enough for one night. I'm off for the next 2 weeks. Yaaaay for not having to work, boooo for how broke I'm going to be soon!!

Oh - holler at me if you want me to send you a postcard or something, since everyone knows I'm big on that shit since I'm so cheesy. Roadtripping advice also encouraged.

P.S. STARKED NYC's been down since Wednesday, which SUCKS cause I spent like 2 hours on Wed night doing all the Daily News Links with a Rocky Horror Show theme for Halloween, wasting time that I could have spent in NYC with Amanda, Courtney, Julie, Hittenmark, Matero, etc & of course as soon as I publish it, the site's down so no one could fucking see it. However, I'm sharing this with all of you because I found it hysterical & nearly peed my pants when I saw it (don't you just love redundency?) & have no other way of sharing it with people til the site's back up. Have fun: Have Yourself a Merry Lohan Christmas!

Even Men Can't Resist Cashmere

It's time for another edition of "This only happens to Colleen!" (See: Even Old Women... or the naked old dude pissing in the ocean at Smith's Point in "Maybe a Bright Sandy Beach..."). In today's segment:

I'm at work at Ann Taylor & some old JAPs are asking me about cardigan sets. Old JAP Broad #1 is holding up a pink one, asking me if there are any more shells (the tank top/vest that one wears under a cardigan. I own 4, you've probably seen me wearing them at one point, as I tend to dress like a 35-year-old Republican woman whenever the temperature goes below 78 degrees). ANYWAY, I'm trying to tell her that we got new, wool ones in for the winter & that the only silk/cotton blend ones we have were already out (yeah, it's sort of disgusting that I actually know shit like that now). Old JAP Broad #2 is apparently arguing with me, going forcefully & oh-so-politely, "NO!! Do you have any more of these tank tops?"

Again, I tell her I do not & gesture to the pink pile, dutifully offering to help her find a size. Again, Old JAP Broads start arguing with me. Finally, Old JAP Broad #1, who's still holding a pink cardigan, snaps at me with punctuated syllables for the poor, socially unequal shopgirl, "NO. Do. You. Have. Any. Of. THIS. Color?" Old JAP Broad #2 finally holds up a teal cardigan.

Oh. GEEZ lady, why didn't you fucking say so in the FIRST PLACE, instead of waving the fucking pink one in my face? So I'm taken aback by her tone/sentence structure & momentarily forget that I am merely a humble employee & she the always-right-costumer. I start to snap back, going tone-for-tone with her.

"Oh. Sorry. My. Mistake. No. We. Don't."

Then I snap back to reality - oh there goes gravity - & calmly add, "I got confused, haha, oops!" Bitch must've gotten the message, though, cause her attitude immediately changed. Then they quizzed me about my size (why the hell do people never believe me when I tell them I'm a small or size 2 in our tops & a size 4 in our pants? I didn't try to insist to them that they couldn't possibly be mediums, as they kept insisting that I couldn't possibly be a small...)

So yeah. That's a lovely story, but it's not quite at "This only happens to Colleen!" level yet. Here's the next part:

I go into the back room to chill for a second following this encounter. Two colleagues, Lisa & Ryan (no, Jenna, Kelly & Kalyn, not hot Ryan, unfortch), are on break. I relate to them what just happened and we joke about it. Then I move towards the door & say, "Well, I'm goin' to wordrobing so I can go avoid a bitch or else I'm-a cut her! PEACE." I open the door & step out.

No sooner have these words left my mouth when I look up and see some guy trying on our lovely green cashmere sweater.

I don't even turn around. I walk backwards through the door, into the break room & exclaim, "WHAT IS THIS, THE FUCKING TWILIGHT ZONE?!" I begin laughing so hard I can barely get out the words, "Guy. Zone 5. Green cashmere. Trying on." Ryan's confused because he can't speak crazy girl, but Lisa gets the gist, pushes past Ryan & RUNS to see. Of course by now homey's got it off. My manager, Bill, comes over to see why I'm collapsed in a fit of laughter & tears on the floor. I finally get my act together & go back out, but have to walk completely around that area where he's standing so that I don't start laughing at him.

After a further look at the sweater that he's holding, I can't tell if it was ours or not (perhaps he just had a man's version of a green cashmere sweater that he was taking off?) If it is and I saw what I think I saw, it's definitely one of those "This only happens to Colleen!" moments.

At least it wasn't as gross as the naked old dude peeing at Smith's Point.

Even Old Women Talk About Sex

I know I complain a lot about still being stuck at Ann Taylor 8 days a week, but as with anything you do all the time, it has its moments. Anyway, there's this older woman, Joan, who works there. She's...a character. She's about 70 & probably should've retired like 10 years ago for various reasons/behavior, but she's harmless. She lost her husband in a car crash a few years ago so she still works so she has something to do. This is somewhat relevant back story for what I'm going to tell you.

So I was in the dressing room the second half of the day & it got quiet in there. So, being me, I decided to start making a list of stuff I have to get done tonight, tomorrow, before I die. Joan's in there with me & tells me that she loves to make lists too. Everyone always teased her about doing so. One day, her friend found one of her lists & added to the bottom: "#12. Screw husband."

Joan: "And I didn't forget to do THAT!"

Keep in mind this is a 70-year-old woman telling me this.

I start hysterically laughing (naturally I'm already plotting who I'm going to do this too...). Then she goes, "I should add the same thing to YOUR list!"

70-year-old woman.

Me: "...except I don't have a husband!"

Joan: "Well then, I'll just have to write 'Screw SOMEONE!'"

Let me break this down: The 70-year-old woman that I work with basically told me that I need to get laid. Naturally, I retold this story to the other broads at work. Seriously, little Tara, Barbara & I could not breathe we were laughing so hard.

Ok, I'm off to Matero's to go watch the Mets game with him & Ian-face. Yay 4th night of munchkins, Domino's & baseball this week!

Oohhh they wanna dance with somebody

Julia & I went up to Marist this weekend to see And Then There Were None (as did Courtney & Julie). It was strange to sit in the Nelly Goletti & NOT have to worry about anything. At all. I haven't done that since freshman year. Congrats to everyone, they did fabulous - extra special pats on the back for Cassie & Megan (producers), Erica my ROCKSTAR (PSM) & Christina (anyone who can make Amy Kate actually truly look like a 70-year-old woman gets massive snaps).

I hung out with Rachel, Will, Steph, Nate H., Jeremy & Ryan Defoe for a while afterwards, then made an appearance at the cast party. Rachel, send me those pictures that you took at su casa when you get a chance. Also, damn you Speranza for getting me back into a massive Tori-kick again.

I was still exhuasted from my 8 straight days at my crappy job, so I knew by last Tues that there was no way I was going to be drinking or anything like that this weekend. Anyway, Phil managed to convince me to drive him, Beth, Angrisani, Topher & Stephanie Garrison to Darbys at around 1-1:30am. How did he do this when all I wanted to do was go home to Crissy & Heather's couch & sleep? Irish Nachos. Damn it, I'm a sucker for those gloriously greasy, fattening, unhealthy waffle fries with bacon & melted cheese everytime. Damn you, O'Hagan. DAMN YOU & you "I can eat Irish Nachos at 3am & still look as hot as the movie star I will be some day" ways!

Moving on so this isn't another novel:

We took Angrisani's Irish Nacho virginity & it made him so happy that he & Topher just wanted to dance with everybody! OMG! There's even video of them celebrating! Could you possibly ask for anything more?! *Note that poor Steph totally realizes what she's gotten into by agreeing to come with us, hahaha. Beth is not there bc we made her the Irish Nachos Bitch & made her wait at the bar for an extended period of time with instructions to not come back with the goods.

After getting home at 3:30am (I had to take a trip to the Wall after I dropped everyone off. I didn't go during alumni weekend & that place has always given me perspective). I fell asleep on Crissy & Heather's couch in Fulton around 4am, got up at 8am, went for a short run (I missed my old course, esp. since I couldn't run the last like 2 weeks of school cause I was gimping around haha). Then I drove straight to my grandparents' house in Syosset to shower & get all dolled up for work, dropped all my shit off in Ridge in about 4 minutes and flew out the door to good old Ann Taylor Factory Outlet.

You Know How I Know Phil's Gay?

Heyyyyy let's play the "You Know How I Know Phil is Gay" game! I'll go first!!

"You know how I know Phil's gay?"
"How?"
"He sings Sarah McLachlan to himself when he's in the tanning salon alone."

*Thanks to Beth for telling me this story. It seriously made the whole staying up 2 hours later than I wanted to and DD'ing to Darby's completely worth it.*

How do YOU know Phil's gay? Someone else play with me!

Um, cause apparently this blog posting is now dedicated to Phil's homo ass, I promised I'd put this super awesome & totally exciting video of him swallowing liquid really quickly just to prove he's a superstar! Oh Phil, you're truly outrageous.



...but I still won the bet about the Carver.

maybe a bright sandy beach is gonna bring you back

Being that I had almost the exact same "conversation" today with two different people, I feel the need to include the away message of Brian Sabella, the second person to bring the 'not-going-back-to-Marist' topic to my attention today (not that it wasn't already on my mind/brought up by almost everyone i've ever met in the past few weeks).

StamosIsLife: Finishing up packing for Marist...

Oh wait, Im old.

You little bastards better enjoy it.

Muffin is right. Katelyn actually said to me the other night, "You know, it's really scary that you graduated. I don't like it. It makes me realize that it doesn't last forever." Damn right it doesn't. I'm not going to get into it now cause it's late, but sometimes you really don't know what you've got til it's gone. But I was lucky. After a somewhat rough year (that had good moments, I'm not complaining), I had a very, very, very, very awesome last month of school. Starting with Festival then Banquet then Riverfest then Yuck then Senior week then Senior Formal then graduation; I feel incredibly lucky & blessed that I ended my time at Marist on such a high note.

I guess that's why this has been such a frustrating summer for me. Some things that I wanted to last...didn't and some things that I wanted to happen...haven't. But that's neither here nor there & this is not the time/place to analyze my summer. Maybe another time. Life is funny. I'm a very intense person but I'm an understanding person & not unforgiving. People never give me enough credit: I'm good at brushing things off my shoulders simply bc I don't want the weight of being angry or hurt or hating someone/having them dislike me. It's not worth it. Ok, shut up, Colleen. Just shut up.

Anyway, I did a first for me today: went to the beach by myself. Now, I absolutely love going to the beach but it's been the one thing that I've never really considered doing before. I've seen movies by myself (working at a movie theater desensitizes you to that), eaten by myself (granted, not at a restaurant, but I've gone into places like Panera or Dunkin Donuts or Quiznos, etc al & eaten alone), i've sat at concerts by myself (even if I had friends who were there, just sitting in a different section - DMB @ SPAC 2003 for example) and i've gone to see plays alone. Bottomline: I don't have a problem with a little 'me' time. Anyway, I've never considered going to the beach alone & especially this summer with certain 'circumstances' - so to speak - have caused me to always feel it necessary to have a beach buddy. Cassidy & Claudio have gone to the beach by themselves before & it's quite relaxing & peaceful & gorgeous there, so it shouldn't be a big deal at all. Soooo after an absolutely AMAZING day yesterday at the beach with Julia, Brian, Chris Golio, Ian face & Joe Matero, I decided I wanted to go again today. I woke up and it was gorgeous out so I thought to myself, "Self, just go do it."

So I did. And I relaxed with a book then walked around for over an hour. Said a hello that wasn't as awkward as I thought (I guess? from my POV but what do I know about anything?). Oh yeah - I also saw an old naked guy pissing into the ocean.

Basically, at Smith's Point, if you go all the way down to the right, there's a nude section. I remember walking down there in like 11th grade or something with either Claudio or Tricia or someone bc when you're like 16, the idea of naked people at the beach is still funny. Anyway, I remembered it being alot further than it actually is. At first I was like, "Ok, that dude's naked. Don't stare, just walk a little bit further, it's not crowded." I'm an idiot but I didn't feel like turning around and going back yet. So then I walk about 3 more minutes & see more saggy ballsacs. This time, I'm kinda getting the feeling (especially when I see some naked fat old lady) that it's time to go back. The clincher was when I look up from finding a song on my newly created playlist & see some guy standing by the sea. "Ok, Colleen, don't stare," I say to myself. Then I notice that he's NOT JUST STANDING THERE. NOPE. OLD GUY. NAKED. PISSING INTO THE ATLANTIC OCEAN.

Yup. That was great. I did not go swimming after I got back from my walk.

Ok, this post is long & I have to go find stories for StarkedNY.com for tomorrow since I have work at AT 3-close & I have to go back to the mall so shit's gotta be done early. Thanks to everyone who's been going there & reading it. I really, really appreciate it.

P.S. Snakes on a Plane was awesome. Just awesome. Audience participation. I got to say, "Oohh, what's a trouser snake?" when the guy got bit in the crotch & Matero yelled out, "It's a trouser snake!" My favorite part (other than *the* line) was some guy from the audience yelling, "Why isn't William Shatner in this movie?!"
P.P.S. I'm going to put up videos from the Counting Crows concert as soon as I figure out how to load shit onto YouTube. Adam Duritz is fantastic.

*I finally unloaded like a month's worth of pictures from my camera; this is one from Aug 2, when Danny & I went with Brian to his gig in Hartford. We met up with Bri's friend, Tim, watched Brian play, then stayed up all night playing in Tim's pool, drinking & then having an insane game of "Never Have I Ever." But to kick off the night - aka Happy Hour - Brian bought us all pints. Look how tiny I am next to Danny & the pint haha.

Donkey Show!

yesterday i found out that someone that i work with has actually seen a real, live donkey show. i then found out a lot more about donkey anatomy than i've ever cared to know. repulsing, yet i couldn't stop listening.

according to previously mentioned firsthand witness, who was taking a trip to Mexico 9 years ago with her sister and a couple friends, it brings on a whole new meaning to "hung like a horse." I have NO idea how much exaggeration was going on - nor do I care to find out firsthand - so I'm just going to share with you what I was told. Two feet. Two fucking feet. That's A LOT of donkey penis. Where the hell does a donkey keep that thing when it's not aroused?

I was going to try to find a video of a donkey show but then I realized that would mean that I would have to at some point see the video and I don't want to do that to myself. So instead, I'm gonna just do one better and post the Donkey Show clip from Clerks 2. Have fun.