observations from the past two day:

• holy shit! there is porn on t.v. at 6:30 in the morning! who was the programming genius who put that together, cause i want to give them a big sloppy kiss.
• sims 2 Open For Business is really hard.
• sims 2 is like monopoly after several hours of play: “fuck this game grandma! it’s four in the morning! you win!”
• how to get through an incredibly hard day: michael buble’
• how to get through an even harder day when all seems lost and you want to throw those around you off a building: zach galafianakis
• pimping + charity = pimpity
• have you seen those “The More You Know” p.s.a.’s that the cast from The Office has done? no? here’s a sample: “after the brown bear has finished batting you around and mauling you, contact your local forest ranger”

on monday i sent out an email to all my friends asking that they keep my nana in their thoughts and prayers. the responses that i got was so tremendous i truly felt blessed and touched. this morning i received an email from someone who i considered a friend but giving what they wrote to me i am deeply hurt. this person wrote basically about how i am being selfish because i am begging people for prayers and that i should “call the 700 club”. this person also went on to say that “i also happen to know that what you are describing is not life threatning”. granted this person’s father died recently from a 20 year battle with congenital heart failure and other maladies and i tried to be there as a friend, as did kev. the email that was sent to me was so grossly accusatory and vicious that i just broke down. my family is going through a tough time. my mother is in a shambles as are my aunts and uncles. i’m not sure where this “friend” gets off making her problems bigger and better than anyone elses.
for right now, until i get some explanation from this person’s mouth, these will be my feelings.

i was coerced on friday night to go to the Yellow Rose located in trussvegas. oh yes, you read correctly. it was splodey’s friend adam’s birthday and they were all guns in the air about riding the mechanical bull.
at first walking into the YR i noticed four people at the bar one being a guy with the best mullet ever and three other gentlemen with cowboy hats. on the massive dance floor, which more resembled the skating rink at skate haven, there were two or three people line dancing to some country fried version of britney spears’ slave for U. it was a beautiful dream.

i sauntered up to the bar where i was eyeballed by all four men hunched over their drinks. i ordered a beer and a shot because the activities i was about to embark on called for no less than .12 alcohol level. the bar wall was adorned with liquor bottles on upside down tap all lit up like an alcoholic christmas tree. the bartender, a lovely woman in her mid 40’s poured me a kamikaze that was larger than any shot i have ever seen.

we drank our beers and giggled like small school children at the derelicts that this bar called its patronage. our table was situated right in front of the bull which i lovingly named bessie may. she was a beauty. she was one in a million girls. come on, sing it with me!

adam was first on the bull, then blake (adam’s brother), christina (blake’s girlfriend), splodey, and me. i think i did farely well considering i had never ridden a mechanical bull before. i’ve had a lot of experience riding horses but nothing that could throw me against a wall.

then next morning i had bruises on the insides of my thighs and could not lift my arms any higher than my sides.
but, hey, it was fun as shit!

last week my nana was rushed to emergency surgery to repair an arterial aneurysm. she made it through like a champ and was doing quite well. sunday morning my mom called to tell me that nana had developed pneumonia and was on life support. her doctors were going to begin treating the pneumonia aggressively and have a good outlook on her recovery. i feel so helpless all the way out here. i can’t be with my nana and that hurts so much. i feel like i am getting gipped on my time with her. i mean, this is a woman who was golfing one day before she had her chest ripped open!

please send all of you healthy wishes to her and to my family who is sitting watch.

lets all thank kev for this little gem he put into my head this morning and it hasn’t left yet:

(sung to the tune of the Samford & Son theme song)
Simmer down now
Yes it’s time to watch the show
Yes it’s started
Don’t be licking me no mo’
And in fact hand me a handi-wipe!

yeah, can’t stop singing it. humming it. whistling it. shuffling to it.

just like sarah i too am at a loss as to what to post so i will just fill your eyes with random thoughts.

i made the baddest, kickingest compilation cd yesterday and realized that three of the tracks didn’t burn correctly. so sad. the jealous sound makes me tingle. i have an opportunity to make a gigantic ass out of myself but am very apprehensive. who, me? naaah. i also have an opportunity to be in an indie film in atlanta but my self-deprication is holding me back. i had the weirdest dream last night involving ticks on my dogs, a pronged dart in my eye, and living in southside. i tell people that i am adorably nerdy because i so want to be. i’m too fucking honest. i hate it when someone tells you that they will come hang out with you and never show up. not you rush. i allow people to walk all over me because i have a martyr complex. my boss is leaving the country for a whole week and i cannot tell you how overjoyed i am. i’m back on sims2. i want to go to nashville. i want to go to atlanta. i want to go to ireland. all these places are within reach but my monetary situation makes them seem like the wrong side of the berlin wall. i hate when hold music is some shitty country station.

there are some things i should not attempt while drinking such as jumping off the bench outisde the nick. this kind of behavior plus my ability to trip over my own shoes at any moment equals me falling backward and busting my ass on the opposing bench. now i have a beautiful bruise on my backside which pales in comparison to the bruise on my ego.

happy saint patrick’s day everyone! one of my favorite days of the year. right next to bring your flask to work day. and what better way to celebrate the patron saint of ireland by having a parade complete with strippers!

several people have asked me why am i not wearing green today and the answer is simple: i’m fucking irish! with a surname like o’hanlon do you think anyone would confuse me for anything but an irish girl? i told kev this morning that if anyone so much as comes close to pinching me i will punch them in the face. hey, that’s the way i roll.

see, the irish are a lot like southern people in that we don’t hide our crazy relatives in institutions. we bring them out into the open and embrace them.

i started today’s post with intentions of talking about how i have been pooping water for the last four days, but i decided you guys were really tired of hearing about my digestive trouble. oh sure, you’ll all run over to dooce to read about how she can’t poop but if i begin to utter the word “diarrhea” you all scatter like mice.

i went to lunch with sarah and her friend angela yesterday. i love eating at roma’s because it affords me the opportunity to stare longingly at hawtbusboy guy. seriously, he is totally hot. that is, until he opens his mouth. he sounds like he has a mouthful of rocks.

yesterday also marked day two of perfect hair. i even managed to somewhat get it to do what my stylist does. i just hope it doesn’t rain any time soon for there will be much afro action.

now i have to get back to work writing an oh so exciting due diligence report. wheeeee!

i am not one to go out during the week. many of my friends give me hell because of it but i just don’t do well at work with a beer headache and urges to vomit into my trash can. last night however, i succumbed to the pressure and joined kev out at bailey’s to see the exhibit(s). they were awesome as usual but the bestest thing was hanging out with some of the coolest people on the planet.

this is richard. kenn calls him an ignorant slut but i call him absolutely adorable. doesn’t his chin look like it was dipped in chocolate? don’t you just want to gobble him up? no? oh….well, yeah…me neither. forget i said anything.

this is paul’s warrior face. subsequently it is also his “O” face.

yours truly with the coolest glasses ever. and also my kickin’ haircut.

these are the sideburns that ate manhattan. they are also the sideburns that attract cute nerdy girls with a hypnotic magnetism. can’t. stop. staring.