I'm in Tulsa visitng J this weekend and we start talking about our relationship:

J: See, this is what I bring to our relationship.  <he builds a perfectly aligned, evenly proportioned structure, using several boxes of soap>  And this is what you bring to the relationship.  <he bellows "AAAARRRRRRR!!!!!" and knocks the boxes off the table with a sweep of his arm>

Oh, yeah. He loves me.

I was a Girl Scout for (*gasp*) 6 years.

While unpacking boxes, I found my Brownie sash that I've had since 1983...and a slew of badges that went along with it.  I was a very driven Girl Scout*.

Here are some of my tokens.  I am quite proud.

The "Giving Money To Oral Roberts" Badge

The "Picking Up Ssssailors" Badge

I'm proud of my "Surviving A Night In Sing Sing" Badge

The "Having Your Father Embarass You In Public" Badge

My annual "Effectively Annoying Your Neighbors" Badge

My hard-earned "Brokeback Mountain" Badge

The coveted and very hush-hush "Becoming A Scientologist" Badge

The "Joining The Mile-High Club" Badge (somehow I have 2 of these)

(*whoever can tell me where this line comes from, gets an extra box of Thin Mints)

Please tell me I'm not the only teen who had a blasty blast doing this to their nephews/little brothers:

(Meet my nephew, Blake. He's 22 now. If he ever sees this, I doubt they will ever recover my mutilated body.)

To my horror, I saw today that the fashionistas in Milan not only convinced women they can wear leggings again (well, hello again, Molly Ringwald!), but they also have now told the men it's ok.

Leggings. Men. Gak.

While I'm all for furthering our trends toward those in the COOL places (lord knows people need some fashion sense around these parts), I'm going to have to put my foot down and say NO to what could possibly be heading our way. I mean, come on. 

My grandpa used to wear this outfit to bed. This is fashion? (And, p.s., bulge much?)

Sorry, sweetheart, you may NOT wear something that could possibly be described as "floofy". And your purse cannot be bigger than mine.  And, oh yeah, two purses? No.

Um. Honey? Wear this and I'll choke you with that Bedazzler.

Oh, hi! I'm a big tampon! NO.

The designer showing us the number of guys modeling these clothes that still have their penis intact.

I have no idea how to embed videos on Movable Type. So here.

Go watch the woodspiders.

(thanks Chilihead!)

I got my official "Welcome to Texas" package in the mail today from the City of Frisco.

In it was a glossy of George W. Bush giving a thumbs up (autographed in red crayola 'To My Best Buddey! Welcome To Texsis!'), a $5 gift certificate to The Rootin' Tootin' Rib Joint, and a bumper sticker that says "Democrat : The Other White Meat".

They included a welcome letter and a checklist for new residents.  I thought I'd share the list so we can start marking things off mine.

Things To Do While You're Here:

• Register your vehicle with the Department of Transportation (big pickups and tractors only)
• Register to vote (pickin' that sissy blue color? We know where you live, you liberal bitch)
• Attend the mandatory weekly hoedown (bolo ties required)
• Ladies, get fake, over-sized breasts...Gents, get TruckNutz for your pickup
• Pretend you're better than everyone else because your state is sooooo big (everything's bigger in Texas! Including you a-holes!)
• Practice shouting 'YEEEHHAWWWW' and spitting long distances

Items to Purchase For Your Stay:

• A pickup (if you already own a pickup, please purchase a larger pickup)
• Cows, horses, and chickens (and at least one sheep per male in your household)
• More guns - enough to fill at least 5 per gun rack
• Aquanet, economy sized, in cases
• Hats, boots, and jeans that are so tight you can see the dimples on your ass
• A Jesus fish car magnet for each member of your family (state law says there should be at least 6 per vechicle)
• Condoms (we only want REAL Texans breeding here, lefty)

Hmmmm.  Seems as though I have quite a ways to go yet.  I guess I'll go practice on my spitting.

Dear Google searcher from Boston,

I can tell you all that you need to know right now.  The fact that you are searching for "vagania pictures" is the reason you're only seeing them in pictures.  And your spelling abilities aren't really even the issue here.

Love, Chase

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Someone sent me this email after reading my post about puberty : 

i am 17 now i have kinda hit puberty but as of last year i was the little kid at school i was like 5'1 and had a small weiner and everyone else at school has big huge dongs like 6inches but anyway i had a high voice and everything but this summer that just passed i grew a lot i am noe 5"8 my voice is deep but my wang is like 5 inhes but not big diameter that is where the kinda comes in like i have hair down there and everything armpit hair all the works but am i gunna be stuck with this small wang? if i am that sucks because i have girls that like me but i don't want to get to serious because i am afraid they will make fun of my weiner but if they really like u  should they care how big u r and way that story reminds me of what happened to me. thanks

Dear "Hair Down There",

Use of "weiner" twice : check.

Use of "wang" twice : check.

Use of "dong" twice : *BUZZZZZZZZZ*

Oooooh, sorry, kid.  I can't help you if you don't follow the Rules of Emailing Chase.  Everyone MUST use dong twice in all my emails, no matter what.  Ohhh well.  Hey, by the way, have you met that kid from Boston?  I bet you guys would get along great!

Love, Chase

---------------------

Any other questions? 

So. Yeah. I forgot to tell you all that I went to church last Sunday.

No, no, you didn't misread that.  I went to church.  Me, Heathen McSinner.  And I didn't burst into flame like I thought I would have (and probably should have).  I went with J, my uber Christian hotty, my tango dancin' lovah, the apple of my eye.

He said if I went to church with him, he'd go to the local Buddhist temple with me.  Or maybe the new Hindu one.  Boy, is he gonna regret agreeing to that.  Suckerrrrr.

The church was all right, actually.  It was one of those places that cater to the 20- and 30-something hip crowds.  They had a rock-n-roll band during praise & worship (guitars, drums, torn jeans, pink-haired singers).  The pastor was a youngin'...said he graduated in 1998.  Hell, by 1998 I had already been addicted to and recovered from a plethora of drugs.

Did I get saved?  Uhmm...no.  Am I a born-again believer?  No'sir.  But did I shake my booty to the hoppin' Jesus music?  Hells yeah, yo!

It was good, clean fun.  And I don't even think I said "fuck" for the rest of the day!  Maybe I DO have a chance at salvation afterall.

*snort*

By the way, God is totally paying me back for my flippant church-experience yammering.  I just moved to Texas...where the state flower is SUNSHINEY HAPPINESS!!!....where, when I got here, it was 65 degrees and I made fun of all my friends because those losers weren't in one of the WARM states like I was. 

Today?  Mmmhmmm....yeah.  Fifteen degree wind chill. 

WTF, Jesus?

Just curious. 

Are any of you people out there in marriages/relationships with someone who is of a different faith than you?  What about faith vs. non-faith relationships?

If so, how do you deal with that in your relationship?  Talk each side and respect the other's beliefs?  Just not talk about hot buttons?  Ignore the fact and say 'faith? what faith? who said that?' 

What about the kids, if you have any?  Do you teach them one faith over the other?  Teach them about each side? Give up and just teach them to be heathens?

Indulge me, here. 

KTHNXBAI!

I made it to Texas yesterday!  I'm officially a Friscan Friscoese Friscoian resident of Frisco!  And I still have so many boxes to unpack that I want to throw up! 

But, oh, what fun it is to unpack a box that you haven't opened in nearly 15 years.  One of my favorite finds was a notebook of some of my old writing.  Though, by "favorite find" I mean "thing that made me gag the most violently".  And, of course, by "my old writing" I mean "incoherent blatherings from a self-obsessed, 17-year-old, whine tit."

So, in the name of Cringe, let's take a gander, shall we?

"Some try to cover up love with words or actions, thoughtless and useless alibis. In their hearts, though, they know they will never quiet the melodies of devotion. Try though they will, it will not cease. Reality, a strong word."

Um.  Whut?  Yeah...that totally made sense. Please take a moment to roll your eyes.

"I cry desolate tears in my sleep. I refuse to shed them for you, though. They are only for my own gain. I have once again put myself through the agony of deception."

Egads. I wonder if I was wearing black nail polish and cutting myself with razorblades when I wrote this? Desolate tears?  le sigh!

"It is no longer up to me to choose the winding path of my life. Only destiny is involved in deciding which road I am led down. A tight noose will be affixed around my soul, escorting me to whatever fate I run into. I will obediently follow because I give up on my own decisions. I have wronged myself enough in this life."

Errrrrrruh. Seriously. Please excuse me while I go vomit on myself in the corner.  I was SO totally Emo before Emo was invented!  I'm surprised my parents didn't just murder me right then and there. 

Okie dokie. I have to go now because there's a certain box that needs a LOT of tape put back on it.  Hopefully I put enough on that I can't open it for another 15 years, when I have a kid who is whining about not feeling loved and I can whip this out and say 'you think you have it bad?! I WAS CRYING DESOLATE TEARS FOR GOD'S SAKE!!'

Well, I ALMOST made it to Texas.

I got up early this morning, all fired-up and in the mood to stick anything that would sit still into the last of the cardboard boxes.  I had the last tidbits piled next to the door...my toothbrush packed nicely away, my clean laundry folded and ready for their first trip to their New Closet.

(Quick note to self : buy hangers because you've got NONE.)

(Quick P.S. to self : what the hell happened to all my old hangers??)

I made what was the last trip to the Old House to pick up a few things from the garage, and with the very first thing I loaded up, my pressure washer, I stood up crooked, or too fast, too furious, or something...and totally blew out my back. 

Aaaaand that's where I dropped to the ground and stopped being able to walk.  Right there in the driveway with NOTHING LOADED. 

Ahhh, welcome back old injury.  How I've missed thee.

But, lo!  That did not stop me!  I ran hobbled to U-Haul and got myself a truck and trailer.  Then I begged a couple of strong, virile gents to load my U-Haul for me while I coached them got in their way and was really helpful asked annoying questions and handed them the same single sofa cushion 14 times because 'JUST WAIT UNTIL WE FIND A PLACE FOR IT AND GET OUT OF OUR WAY FOR THE LOVE. OF. GOD. WOMAN!!!'

And then I took approximately 4,812 Tylenol and whined because I still couldn't walk.

So now I'm laying down and resting my back like I should be here at J's house still, sitting crookedly in this computer chair and blogging about WOE IS ME.

Tomorrow!  For what seems like the 37th time, I'll say TOMORROW I'm leaving for Texas.  For good.  And for reals.

I just hope Bubba has some good muscle relaxers.

In my transition between Tulsa and Dallas, I've been staying at J's house.  You all may remember J from such blog storylines as "I'm totally taking tango lessons!" and "My friend and I make cheesecakes! WOOT!"

J and I are exactly the same.  Well, except that he's a conservative Republican. And an uber Christian.  And, well, pretty much everything I'm not.  But in the BEST way possible!  And we actually get along rather well.  I completely adore J.  Plus, he's totally hot. 

Ahem. Anyway.

Since I've been staying with him, I hang out with him, his friends, and his family nearly all the time.  They are what you'd expect : conservative, Christian, amazing people.  My group has always been the opposite...cussing, spitting, drinking, smoking, agnostic/atheist, Bush-hating, gay-loving lefties.  So this has been an eye-opener to say the least. 

I have noticed a few SLIGHT differences between the groups.  Heh.  So I offer to you now some situations and conversations I've been a part of this last month that show just how different of a crowd I've been enjoying lately. 

(quotes from MY friends are hypothetical and assumed...quotes from HIS are totally real)

---------------------------------------------------

While playing a really hard Xbox racing game:

My friends/family : "Are you fucking serious? What the hell is that asshole doing?!?!"

His friends/family : "Oooh, darn it all to heck!  Oh no!  Jesus take the wheel!"

When asked 'If you could choose how you were going to die, how would it be?"

My friends/family : "I'd want to be eaten by a shark, dude...that'd be freaking cool."

His friends/family : "As a martyr for the Lord!"

When talking about the President:

My friends/family : "What a fucktard."

His friends/family : "He's so cute with how he talks...that's why I love him...he's such a good 'ol boy!"

While imitating someone with tourettes:

My friends/family : "Mother fucker! Shit! Mother FUCKER!"

His friends/family : "Bob Saget!"

When asked "What you watching?"

My friends/family : "Ellen. And then Rosie.  And then Richard Simmons."

His friends/family : "Pat Robertson.  But you can change it if you want...I'll watch it again tonight."

When asked "What are you doing for New Years Eve?"

My friends/family : "Dunno...getting hammered...dancing with hotties...barfing."

His friends/family : "Getting drunk on the holy spirit!"

-------------------------------------------

Again. Totally real. 

Ya know, Hell is going to be REALLY hot when I get there.  But, boy will I have some great stories to tell.  I hope you're all there to hear 'em.

Ahem.

For 2007, I resolve not to pretend to know how to customize the default settings of any of the plugins on my blog's control panel because when I do it shuts down my blog completely and doesn't allow you guys to comment or me to post a new blog explaining that, um, I don't know why you can't comment, and then it takes me 3 days to figure out what the hell happened.

I also resolve to become a super jedi ninja chick.