I AM ADDICTED TO CLIQUES!!!!!!!!!!! I have been going crazy joining and finding them. I think they may possibly be the best thing to come along since animated icons. I am such an e-nerd.

Still looking for other cow cliques, zodiac cliques, 80s music cliques, disco cliques, camel cliques, and theatre cliques.

Damn you again, Sara!!!!!

Testing….Testing…Testes…oops

Well, my site is nearing the finishing point…well at least the blog page. I just have to trasnfer everything from my old site to my new stuff and make some new graphics. Looking back, I can’t believe I had that sad excuse for a site up before. MUCH thanks to Sara for checking out the site, advising me, and allowing me to steal some of her ideas.

Today has been quite interested. Want to hear about it? Too bad, you’re gonna. So I am awakened at 8:30 this morning by the loud sounds of an Indian movie musical on the other side of my bedroom wall. After repeated amounts of slamming the wall, the music seems to stop. I could not go back to sleep, and ten minutes later the music starts again. I used everything from my hand to a hammer to get their attention and nothing. I got to Publix at 12, get back at 12:30….still playing. I went to reeharsal (that is a WHOLE ‘nother story), get back at 6….and still playing. The Tampa police (a joke) say they can’t come out. And the security service at my apt. complex never showed up when I called them earlier. So I tried again, and 2 minutes before the cop arrives, the music stops! However, that was the end of loud music as the group of Indian men next door got the hint I suppose.

So I get in my car to go to rehearsal. I had made myself a sandwich and gotten a slurpee from 7-eleven. Three lights down on Busch, my car starts to make this horrible grinding noise and vibrates. I pull into the parking lot of Olive Garden where people are staring and pointing at my car. I think “Oh shit!” I park, get out of my car and see my rear driver tire COMPLETELEY tore up from the floor up. SO I debate what to do. No towing service. No one to call. Let’s check to see if there is a spare in the trunk. There is…and tools to boot. Hmmm…never changed a tire before. Do I call a towing service to come change it for me? Is there a manual? Yes. Bing. Bang. Boom. Fadi changed a tired using a manual. Quite a masculating experience. Now….I get into the car. The slurpee has melted. And my sandwich…believe it or not…has become a melt…not only that…my Jewish Rye bread turns into Melba toast. The heat actually toasted my sandwich!!! And I am talking golden brown and everything!

Get to rehearsal and someone suggests going to Firestone to get it checked out. So I do and Meggin, a godsend, goes with me. You just never know what you will run into at an auto-type shop. The guy behind the counter was cool and laughing at my jokes and joking around with me. Then the mechanic walks in and me and Meggin just look at each other. This guy HAD to have skipped a couple of evoloutionary levels. We are talking almost primordial mixed with Appalachian hollow country. To make a long story short (too late) the tires was fixed (cost me…dammit!), got to rehearsal, got home, did some homework, updated the site, watched some telly, and now I am here blogging. This also reminds me that I have not written in my journal for the same amount of time. Some things have got to change!

I look forward to leaving the shitty establishment known as the university and the oppressive clutches of the GAOs of the world. This is not a matter of economics, but survival!

THANKS SARA!!!!!!