"I can sleep on a plane, I can sleep on a train. I can sleep in the grass, I can sleep sitting on my....chair." Case and point: This is an accidental picture of my foot right before I fell asleep in some grass on a nice day. Also note how nice my feet look due to the lack of oozing scabs on the tops of them. **weeping noises** I need a moment...

I'm Only Sleepin'....

"Please don't spoil my day, I'm miles away, and after all I'm only sleepin'...."

It's only appropriate that I'm in Liverpool and use a Beatles song yo. It was inevitable. It had to happen sometime. So, point is that I came home yesterday and was absolutely exhausted. After spending a fun-filled day in Manchester running action group with Sarah and Ryan, I came home and got cozy on our couch with a blankie around 8:30pm. Mistake numero uno. A short time later I was passed out. I finally woke up a little after 9 and realized that I was still exhausted and so crashed upstairs in bed. I woke up again to the big fat sun in my face at 8:30am. I was dressed in the following:

a tank top
a shirt over that tank top
a zip up sweater over that shirt
a pair of jeans
a belt
my watch (that's unheard of when I sleep)

PLUS, I had my contacts in which were nearly impossible to get out. I hadn't brushed my teeth or washed my face. I was a sight.

Twelve solid hours of sleep. My conclusion: If there was such a thing as a World's Championship of Sleeping---I would take that mother hands down.

Convo with Rachel

This is friendship:

crak05mak: but now i must retire to my comfortable bed, p.s. i had a dream about you last night where you were in the crazy people's hospital and i had to stay there with you and your mom. but i love you nonetheless :)

If i could have anyone dream anything about me, it would be that. Thank you McAbizzle. you are the only person that i'd die without if i were in a crazy people's hospital.

"WHAT?!? Is this some kind of sick joke where you're wrongly manipulating our emotions? Don't you toy with us. Don't toy." Ryan and I are so surprised about Sarah coming back next year that we DON'T EVEN KNOW what to do.

Is it my Birthday?

ever since i was a little kid i wanted a surprise birthday party. this doesn't ever really work because you're always suspect that someone has picked up on this desire and is actually planning one for you, so you speculate and inevitably no surprise party is thrown. i've figured out that surprises do NOT work for me unless the people around me can convincingly keep all indications, clues, evidences of something in the works from my curious lil' eyes.

point? today was like a surprise birthday party. sarah's been telling me for almost a week that when she got back from the states she'd have a surprise for me. today she told me that she'd give it to me tonight. i thought it was candy. i got a phone call from diane cowles this evening and she informed me that they'd chosen an associate team leader for next year and that the choice would probably surprise me. obviously i'm thinking "WHO IN THE WORLD COULD IT BE?" I was racking my brain for a British woman who could possibly be placed here when Diane said that it was MY SARAH. Sarah is coming back to Liverpool next year. Sarah. Sarah coming back next year is the best kind of candy.

I'm kind of in this weird state of shock right now, although excited, because everything that I expected is just shifting and turning out different than I originally imagined. I initially thought that I would be the only one back on the team and now me, Ryan, and Sarah will be here and Ed will be with Agape in Liverpool as well. It's just insane and what I consider an ENORMOUS blessing from God. That's like a mini-dream team.

I'm also experiencing this strange kind of emotional turmoil. I just got a list of the team next year and it's only a reminder that soon we'll have to say goodbye to our team. I feel like I probably need a good cry due to this mix of happiness, the unknown, and goodbyes. My brain is spinning....I'm going to the living room now. Yes...yes....that's what i'll do.

Fan Club and My Favo(u)rite Irishmen

i'm not one of those chicks that's like "oh, my writing is very personal and meaningful," but when i started my blog i just kind of was indifferent to letting people know that it existed.

let's self-examine for a minute: that's probably an INCREDIBLY dorky thing to say because the whole reason that i was writing was to amuse myself via...myself. i like reading my stories. i just think i am one RIDICULOUS human being.

however, the tides are a-turning and i've now decided to make my blog known to the world...maybe not the wooooorld, but definitely to my mini-fan club out there. a quick shout-out to jen, mo, and david. i'm glad that my blog can be a refuge from your office boredom. i vow, dear working fan club, to make every attempt at keeping my blog fresh, juicy, and entertaining while honest. a feat? yes. but with blood, sweat, and a few tears--i'll make it happen. your responsibility: post and make fun of me. my feet. my dance moves. my general outlook on life. i think taking the mick is one of my love languages...it's how i feel valued and respected as a human being. that's an exaggeration, if not a lie...be gentle, especially you springgate.

on another note: my apologies to maurice maccracken for neglecting to inform my other readers about how wicked his moves are. "they're like....they're like....murder on the dancefloor," that's what one scouser reports anyway. witnesses say that mo's dance moves were so H-O-T that when he was perfecting his Beyonce walk across the floors of Mood on Friday night, a tanned Scouse lass moved across the entirety of the building to try and get a closer look at the choreography of a genius. upon her approach, she was so overcome with awe that she tried to dance in sync with Mo, but to no avail. His smoothness deflected her and she was left both distraught and amazed at what she had just encountered.

okay...maybe that's not the most honest description, but seriously...that's ALMOST what happened. So what's the conclusion: I love going dancing with Maurice Maccracken. May 31st. I'm in Mo, but for the record, there will be no floor sliding.

2 Days After "The Slide" and oddly enough it looks like I've acquired some type of flesh eating virus from the sanitary beacons that are the floors of Mood. Ashley says it looks like Leprosy and is considering now calling me "Leppy."

Surprise, Surprise

okay, number one, LOOK AT ME, a two day in a row post. i should probably be given a blogging award, huh? huh? i've just been reading other people's blogs lately and i'm envious because i'd really like to be more disciplined in my blogmanship, i mostly just forget. but today, my friends, is a new day and who knows, maybe tomorrow will result in a blogging streak.

my feet are in a pretty poorly state, buuuut i have hope for a quick recovery. i've took more recent and probably vomit-inducing pictures (because of how gross they look). i'll try to post them soon: a big beware to the faint of heart. ha.

listening to the killers album. i've borrowed it from rich williams. i love it. i need to buy it for myself. i've also borrowed the athlete album from him. they're well good. i need to make a purchase there as well.

a bunch of us are going to a guster concert in manchester on may 18th. i'm pretty excited because i've convinced about 4-5 brits who have never heard of them to come along. Jen, pass the word along to Mo--the two of you should come along as well. Go to http://www.guster.com.

i've had a good day. hope you had a mega dopaliciously wicked kickbutt day as well.

Post-Slide: My injured tootsies admist clean-up.

Me in my new digs during "the slide."

Treece and I pre-slide

The Dance Dance Revelation

I haven't posted in a while, I know. Jen, if you're reading this...I hope that you're having a good day at work. Last night was an amazing night of fun and funk. It was Christy's birthday so we headed to a restaurant called Heart and Soul and then headed to Mood for a night o' dancing. I was pretty excited about this as I'd been in a dancing kind of mood all day and was feeling good with a new haircut and new outfit. Shortly after our arrival Sara Treece requested that I do my famous floor slide. I agreed and removed my shoes since I have trouble walking in them, let alone running and sliding on my knees in them. I did my slide and the floor, my friends, was angry that day. He was not a floor that welcomed sliding parties. He was not a floor that was slick and smooth like one's legs after a long-awaited shave and lather of lotion. No...he was obstinate, stubborn, and ungiving. I hit the floor and slid some, which resulted in a cool picture, but the skin was taken off of large areas of both of my feet and my right knee is really swollen. Now I have these enormous scabs on both of my feet that make it difficult to walk in any pair of shoes so I made a trip to Superdrug today and bought the necessary products to bandage up my destroyed pieds. I'll include a picture of before, during, and after the slide, but I don't feel like the after picture does my feet the justice they deserve. I may have to take another picture soon and post it so that my faithful readers can have a full appreciation for the sacrifices of starting dance revolutions amongst the great people of Liverpool. You should also be aware of the fact that I was at Mood for about 4 hours more and I ignored the pain and just danced it out. That should be a wise saying: Sometimes you just have to ignore the pain and dance it out.