There's a hole in my pantyhose....

Which, I suppose, is better than having a hole in your soul....or a tear in your beer, for that matter. But, my pinky toe is poking out, and the hole keeps getting bigger and bigger, and will soon encompass my ring toe, and it's rather uncomfortable (but not as uncomfortable as sitting at a desk all day while wearing a thong, which I have refrained from doing today). Because I have over-shot my text message limit by about 130 texts this month (which means that my dad will bitch, and I will be forced to cut him a check for $13 to shut him up), I have decided that I will blog during the remainder of my lunch hour rather than sending incessant text messages, as I have gotten into the habit of doing. The question is, do I really have anything important to say today? It really depends on your definition of important. Anything I say could be important to someone, somewhere. I haven't had a themed blog in awhile. Don't you miss the days of the Hoveround scooter, Renegade, and Kidz Bop? I need to do a good, solid analysis of something. I'm itching for school work. Isn't that sad? What ever made me think I could survive out of my natural academic habitat? I need something to tide me over in mean time. I was thinking about doing some freelance Biblical Greek. I need to get all of my stuff back out and refresh my memory a bit, but it could be fun. I need a partner in Greek crime to keep me motivated, however, and I'm unfortunately the only nerd around these parts that took Biblical Greek to fulfill my undergraduate language requirement. I knew that if I worked for awhile, I'd realize the error of my ways and go back to school! I probably won't go back until Fall of '07, but that's okay. At least it's some time to make money, and something to look forward to. Here are some things I've been thinking about today (yes, I'm going to use BULLET POINTS!):

• I am convinced that there is not a bra in the entire universe that will fit me correctly. Every single one gaps, or my boobs pop out of it, or it smashes them, etc, etc. This is probably because my boobs are two different sizes (although I'm told that most women's are). They're also shrinking, which pisses me off, because now I have to buy smaller bras (I was a C cup, now I'm a B...what the hell is up with that?!).
• I have a bad case of the "What ifs". You know..."What if I had [insert action here]?" I think about how my life would have turned out if I had done things differently. I don't necessarily harbor a sense of regret or anything, just a hell of a lot of curiosity. Like...what if I had just changed one little thing that I've done. Every single thing in my life could have turned out differently. It's really kind of creepy, when you stop and think about it. I can't decide whether I believe that no matter what, things will turn out how they were meant to turn out (you know...fate and shit), or whether we are supposed to have some sort of "final destination" (I know, I know, life's a journey, not a destination...I learned that from Steven Tyler, duh) that can be screwed up if we make some sort of mistake during the journey of life (damn, I'm getting incredibly cheesy here). Or maybe there is no such thing as fate, and there's no final destination, and we just kind of float through life waiting to die. Maybe I'm having an existential crisis. You may be right...I may be crazy. But it just may be a lunatic you're looking for (name that tune!!!)
• I have a horrible tendency to doubt what other people think of me, and it gets me into trouble. If someone tells me that they like me, I just need to trust them, rather than thinking, "Oh, I'm way too [insert adjective here] for this person to possibly think i'm cool." And even though I know I do it, I have an incredibly difficult time stopping myself from doing it. That's why I always imagine myself as the person that's being sung to in songs like Elton John's "Your Song" ("I hope you don't mind, I hope you don't mind, that I put down into words how wonderful life is while you're in the world"), or "I Would Walk 500 Miles" ("and I would walk 500 more, just to be the man who walks a thousand miles to fall down at your door"), or "Fat Bottomed Girls" ("you make the rockin' world go round!"), or even "Footloose" (I like to imagine that I'm Marie, and that Kevin Bacon is telling me to "shake it, shake it for me." I mean..my middle name is Marie, why is that so far off?) The point is that if I imagine that I'm being sung to, it makes me feel like a way more awesome person, so it's easier for me to believe people when they tell me that they think I'm awesome.

No more bullets. Something more important has come up. I am home now, and it's about 8 PM. However, I knew what I would finish this blog with when I was still at work. Mike was being strange (as usual) and speaking in an English accent this afternoon. And that reminded me of......STEVE IRWIN (or the Crocodile Hunter, for those of you who aren't such huge fans that you're on a first name basis with him. And yes, I know he's Austrailian. But the accents sound similar). And in case you were wondering, I do, in fact, own the very fine film pictured to the right. Of course, I kind of stole it from Hollywood Video, so I didn't actually pay for it...but that doesn't make it any less awesome. I saw it in the theater too. Anyway, I had nearly forgotten just how awesome Steve truly is! "Crikey! This croc is one sexy sheila!" HEHEHE it never fails to amuse me. I'm sure I could come up with some kind of strange analysis to do on that movie. I mean, what did the Crocodile Hunter film really mean for our culture in general. Did it have any sort of effect? Which aspects of our culture did it accept? Which did it reject? You can ask those questions about just about any film, be it horrible, wonderful, or mediocre. Well, that's enough of my nerd-dom. This is the third blog this week, so I damn well better not hear anybody bitch for quite awhile. That's right. I'm giving my public what they want to see.