Tuesday, September 14, 2004


Lori called to tell me today that according to the latest polls that she's seen (she works at voter registration for our county) that Bush would win, as he is ahead in the electoral votes. Fuck. Figures. Just the words I needed to stomp me down even more. I am in a piss ass mood today. PISS.ASS.

I woke up ok; though I was startled awake by one of the furry bastards we share our home with, they came THISCLOSE to knocking my laptop off the coffee table, I suspect Molly; but I don't doubt it was Asa. I think waking up to a start like that just sort of steered me into this funk.

The gym went ok; though I am used to wearing my glasses when I read now, and by the time I left I had a headache, (incidentally, the headaches have all but banished since getting my new specs. I think we found our culprit.) I went home, got ready; all was fine. I got to listen to a few moments of our dysfunctional upstairs neighbors engaged in one of their notorious fights. Dude, they usually fight in the wee hours of the morning until about 9 on the weekends, (when we actually hear them.) never at night. How weird is that? I heard them from about 6:45am to when I left shortly before 8. My favorite was when she was blood-curdling screaming at him "WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?" It didn't sound violent, but damn I would have liked to have been a fly on the wall. I envision him sitting there reading a magazine or playing video games while she freaked out. Also, she is fugly. Seriously. She is a tiny little asian girl, and from behind you would think she'd be gorgeous, she dresses nice, long pretty hair, tiny body; but then her face ... it is jacked. She needs to invest in some damn proactiv and a little maybelline. YOWZA. He's actually not bad looking, he's got nice skin, he's filipino, and used to have looooonnnng hair, but now shaves his head. He could do better.

Gee, judgemental much? Anyway, I dont' know why the surliness is here, but fuck all if Satchel doesn't shut his fucking trap today I may go crazy. It's bad enough that I have thought about quitting all day, simply because of him. It's not like he's even bothering me that much other than his mere existence is enough to make me want to vomit on his shoes and then land a mighty kick right between his eyes. If I hear him go on and on ONE MORE FUCKING TIME about how he's volunteering to be a 'pollster' tonight to make sure all 'of my people come on out and vote the right way!' I may punch him. Seriously. Then he fucking engages in these asinine exchanges with cab drivers who come in, and speak broken fucking english at best and they don't get his jokes and he pats them on the shoulder and laughs as if they do. "heh heh, I have to leave early today, but don't you worry I'm going to make up for it by coming in late tommorrow. *wink, wink, nudge nudge*' Meanwhile, the yellow cab driver stares at him sort of blankly and Satchel laughs like the idiotic fucker that he is.

Oh man, how I loathe that fucker so damn much. Then you have the moral wrestling going on in my head in where I can hear my mom's voice plain as day say "it's not nice to hate, Allison." and she's right, but fuck I HATE HIM. Have I mentioned that? Are you getting my drift? Does the amount of Loathing that I have come off the page clear enough? Because I hate that fucking piece of shit so much that I can't bring myself to even look him in the face.

I am also stressing about wedding stuff (what else is new) and should probably delegate, but damn. It's hard. I feel like I'm bossing around people and giving them shit jobs to do when I should just do them, but I have zero FUCKING MOTIVATION to get anything wedding related done. Case in point: Last night I baked 5 loaves of Nance's banana bread. I added raisins instead of nuts, and that shit is damn good. I then started crocheting a hat because you know, I need a mint green ski hat in fucking September. Nevermind that I should have finished addressing the invitations, that will get done tonight.

Back to my original point, I should delegate but I feel weird about it. My sister (the BEST MAID OF HONOR you could EVER hope to have, is busy with getting the bridal shower stuff done ---IT'S THIS SATURDAY! PRESENTS! I CAN'T WAIT!) And has done so much already, I don't feel like it's fair to shove more on her plate even though she continually tells me it's ok. Troy, my man of honor will be in charge of all the decorating and bouquet, and boutinniere making... so I don't really want to weigh him down with shit now, as that will be a big enough job when the time comes. Jessica lives in Oregon and is stressed out about her own shit, Holly just started school and has a full plate with her job as well as her second job of doing partylite and now working school into the mix, that I don't want to give her more to do... because believe me, I know how it is to try and fit it all in. It ain't easy. The other girls either live kind of far away, have families to take care of or work odd hours. That and one is kind of a dick who I never should have asked, but what can I do now. I console myself with the thought that she had to pay for a dress that she's complained of 'never being able to wear again' (and um, please... it's a black strapless formal gown, it IS wearable again, and you know what; you didn't have to say yes, but ya did so quitcher bitchin.)So I guess the fact that she had to pay under duress (though of her own fucking volition) is enough to qwell the vengeful side of me. Haha you're out 125 buckaroos, enjoy the dress!

Hey, this entry makes me sound so nice, wanna be my friend?

Bottom line: I don't delegate well. Duh.

We were going to go pick out tuxes tonight, but I say fuck that noise; let's sit home and finish the invitations (those fuckers are going to the post office TOMORROW!!) and eat banana bread.

By the way, I am bound to have a ton of invitations left, so if you'd like one drop me an email at allisonruth.com@comcast.net and I'll send one off to you. (probably not till after the wedding though, just so's you know.)

Oh yeah, I was also pissed as hell to see that the guest list has creeped back up to 311 peeps. DON'T.GET.ME.STARTED. and don't tell me it means more presents because quite frankly, I don't give a shit. WE HAVE 17 TABLES. that's all. They are long tables, but they ain't that long.

ANYHOO, back to my original point, I'd rather eat worms than vote for Bush. I'd rather eat toenails than vote for Bush, and when Lori started in about how unfair it is that our votes here in Washington don't count for shit when it comes to federal elections. Something to do with the electoral college and blah blah blah unfucking fair cakes. The ONLY thing I can do to console myself about this glaring infringement on our rights as US CITIZENS (can I get an Amen now?) is that Satchel's vote doesn't count either. Or my cousin who is smart and funny, but also a republican, and will vote for Bush, and my God it pains me that I'm related BY BLOOD to someone who will vote for the weasel faced douche bag.

I'm rambling here no?

Me and mr. man at the wedding reception on Saturday

Lori entertains Kylie

Kylie is bored with us

Or IS she? It's like someone gave this kid champagne or something...

The pretty centerpieces, I wanted one and Aaron actually won it, when the dj's played a game with the guests. Kelly said she had a few more of the big vases that I could have. SWEET!

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