"Like branding steers or embalming the dead,

There is a show on the history channel about zombies. Like zombie experts, how to protect yourself, etc. Most importantly, don't carry an AK-47 because you could get caught by the cops and thrown in jail with zombies. So carry a machete. From now until Halloween, the History Channel is my new god.

I met Mrs. America at work yesterday. She was nice. And southern. And blonde.
I met one of our so-called regulars at work yesterday. He was nice. And his fly was open. And he takes pictures of the employees and inappropriately photoshops them to horribly obscene pictures. My boss said to make it a point not to let this guy take pictures of us, especially since we're only part-timers.
The Cheap Trick concert for free on Saturday, November 11th, which is coincidently my birthday. After-party at Antigua.
Although I am slightly underpaid, the radio station is by far the best job I've had, benefits (not like dental and insurace though) and experience-wise.
p.s. Glen, Amanda and I are forming a bluegrass, indie, electropop band called Nimbus Lego. We were dressed in our Halloween finery at the Steak and Shake at five in the morning when this was decided. Amanda was an Indian (native American), Glen was Dimebag Darrel, and I was Storm. We're covering Regina Spektor's Us until we actually write something of our own.

Now my doctor's appointment isn't for two weeks. Yesterday, the place didn't take my insurance. I had an appointment set up for tomorrow, too and forgot to cancel it, but now I can't go because I haven't been able to get ahold of my family care practitioner, even though I've left about a billion messages, so I have no referral. I hate this freaking health care system. As James said, this is why I'm a socialist.
Luckily, my aunt, who's a nurse, said that cervical cancer is really slow-growing, and she's known people who haven't gone in for like two or three months, and they were fine. But damn it! It's supposed to be the biopsy, and that's scary as it is, what with the cutting in all. And as Mr. Reedy put it, of course I have abnormal cells! I'm an abnormal person! Gotta love the Reedster.
Plus, I don't even know if I have cancer, or precancersous cells, or whatever. That's what the damned biopsy is for.
I'm sorry fot those of you who are just hearing about this. I haven't told too many people, but I feel everyone on my livejournal I'm close enough to that I can tell you guys. Even though I haven't hung out with some of you guys in ages, you're all still my friends.
So, I'm just frustrated, and the worry is perpetuated.

So I work with Weslie Yuesday nights. And now that she's dating this British guy, she's constantly talking about England and listneing to horrible English radio techno.
Why the crap do I have to listen to this for eight hours straight? She doesn't even consider the fact that James and I both have to study from books, not necessarily art, where it's sort of more okay to have really annoying music playing. More okay than when trying to concentrate on words that are already boring.
I always ask her, or almost always, to turn it down, and she does, but throughout the night, she gradually turns it back up, so it's futile. I seriously am not sure if I've ever heard more annoying music.
Plus, she's always talking to me when I'm trying to read, and mostly about trivial things, or things that should wait when I'm not trying to study.
I am fortunate enough to have a job that I spend the majority of the time studying or doing whatever. But I think I really dislike working with Weslie. Not that that should be a surprise to anyone who knows both of us.
So basically I'm writing because I can't concentrate.
sigh

So, as I've said before, when I'm bored I randomly google things such as my name or various words.
So today (as in less than 5 minutes ago) I typed in apple and got 566,000,000 pages relating to apple, most appearantly for the mac. So then I typed in apple fart. I don't know why. I really don't. It's probably just the 12 year old boy hiding in my id (or is it my super-ego?). I got 1,820,000 pages. The first one was an unpleasant little link to a guy's commentary on how badly apples make you fart. If you're interested, here's the link.
http://www.mrcranky.com/movies/amityvillehorror/76.html
Finally I typed in apple fart hobo. Once again, I don't know why. My genius must be beyond explaination. There were 46,500 entries. The first was a myspace, which is to be expected. What I want to know is why such a large part of apple farts is apple fart hobos. I mean, it works out to about 2.5% of the search for apple fart contains the word hobo. It doesn't seem like a lot, but consider how many words are in the English language. I don't know exact number, but a rough estimate would say a shit-ton.
Once again, I don't know why I chose this group of semi-vulgar words, or why it encouraged me to write an entire post on it. I guess it's just one of those mysteries of life.
Now if you'll excuse me, I've got to find some fries. Some seem to be missing from my happy meal.

boys pretty much suck.

And continue to be.
I leave for Washington, D.C. tomorrow/tonight really for a week to visit my uncle. I'll also be in NYC for a day.
Liquids on a Plane is very much appreciated.
Thanks to Chrissy for taking me to the airport. Much, much thanks.
To Kelly and Jacob: I saw you guys driving today!!!! I waved, but wasn't seen.
And, an apology to Zach, Kelly and Josh if Brad was any trouble whie living there. Not that I would know because I haven't spoken to him in months. When he moved in with you guys, I wasn't planning on us breaking up or anything like that. I feel almost like I ditched him on you guys. So, sorry for the whole situation.
My leg is pretty much better after having been hit by the car. It won't be completely healed for six months though. But I'm not in a cam walker and on crutches any more, and I can run and do physical activity again.
Brenda died back in June. She was 26. I saw pictures of her after chemo and she looked really adorable. I guess you can't say that about too many bald people.
What else...
Oh yeah! I'm joining PeaceCorps after college. I changed my major from advertising/studio art to marketing with an emphasis on nonprofit, entertainment and retail (odd combo, I know) and a minor in studio art. I decided I didn't want to be in college for six years. I moved from 4-101 to 2-101 in Peg. Landing. I have a fashion show in the spring that is supposed to be a pretty big deal. We're shooting to have it in Winter Park on Park Ave, which would be kind of huge. I'm sort of seeing a guy from work named James. He's a nice fellow. I'm working at JoAnn's as a knitting/crocheting teacher. Finally, I may get a job as an RA, which essentially means I won't have to work midnight to eight in the morning any more.

Let it be known throughout the lands that I am Candice! Hear me roar!!!!
See Pirates of the Caribbean if you have not already done so!!!
See Ghost World, if only for Steve Buscemi!!!!
YARRRR!!!!

To the eastside.
To that de-lux apartment in the sky.
Yeah we're moving on up.
To the Eastside.
We've finally got a piece of the pie.


Yep.

My dad gave me a $25 iTunes giftcard for his retirement, so I bought a bunch of songs, including, but not limited to...
Dancing Machine (Single Version)-Jackson 5
Just a Friend- Biz Markie
Don't Stop-Planet Rock-Afrika Bambaataa
Girl-Beck
The Metro-Berlin
Obsession- Animotion

So I got to thinking today after trying unsuccessfully to add classes to my fall/spring schedule, and I realised that I have absolutely no direction in my life for the next couple of years.
I was going to join the advertising program at UCF, but I've heard nothing but bad about it, and you have to have almost a 4.0 GPA to get in to boot. If I work my ass off, I may have that in a year. Maybe.
So I thought whatever, maybe I'll just get a business degree, but it seems so sterile and cold. Liberal arts will get me absolutely nowhere in life. If I'm not mistaken, there is no more graphic design program here, and a BFA in studio art isn't exactly going to bring in the dough.
I used to think that I could be completely happy without lots of money, but living from my experience, and my basically being poor until JoAnn's sends me my paycheck, I know that it's just too stressful. So I'm not going to give myself delusions of being able to be happy and poor. Maybe if I could travel in a Winnebago around the country, or backpack through Europe, I'd be content.
My point is, I feel like I've hit the proverbial wall, and on this wall was a button that once pressed, built an entire room around you in a split second.... whatever. That was just a pretentious way of saying I feel trapped.
I may transfer schools, but I have no clue where to. The best thing tht I can do for right now is talk to my advisor/semi-mentor/design teacher Mr. Reedy, but I won't be able o do that until Monday, so I'll just have to fret until then.
I've been saying I want to go into the Peace Corps for a couple of years now, but in my mind it mostly sounded like I was saying it to impress people because I wasn't sure if I really wanted to do it. Well, I'm looking at the website right now. The thought of it made me so happy that I cried.
So, no matter what direction I go in with my undergraduate's degree, I am joining Peace Corps.
I figure I'll get my undergrad's, join the Peace Corps, and then get my graduate's degree, hopefully in fashion design or something like that. But who knows... I may decide to go with social work or political science sometime.
The only certain thing is the Peace Corps at this point.
What I lack in direction, I make up for in overplanning.

British techno pretty much sucks. There, I said it.

Brenda died from lung cancer last night. I never made her the blanket, and I think that's the worst thing I've ever done in my life. Love everyone as much as you possibly can while you can.

Yeah, so... I've got facebook now. err....yep.
In other news, I'm appying at Joanne's to teach a knitting class, and work in general, and also at Target. Wish me luck, si vous plet.
Finally, I'm 2 for 2 on the whole A thing in 3-D design. Go me!!!!
Oh, wai. One more thing. I'll be in twon June 22ish, probably.
Ag!! Lastly, I swear: My dad won the Mr. Romance contest and people are sending him contracts to be a cover model for online romance novels. He's 48. Go dad!

Screwed. Up. The. Butt.
I've decided I never want to be poor, and if I am, I want to be homeless poor, not in-debt poor, always worrying about something that should be very petty, and shouldn't control your life. Right now, I'd rather have the raw concrete under my feet and some drunk guy spitting at me and telling me to get a job than have to worry another second about how the hell I'm going to manage to pay for school, cell phone overages, gas, food, and still keep my sanity. I wish I was insane.
I avoided buying a seven dollar pair of shoes that I normally would haven't even thought twice about paying for, because I'm being frugal. Seven dollars here and there adds up, you know. For those of you who are wondering, I can't get a second job for another month unless I'm sitting, because even though I'm off crutches, I'm still in physical therapy, and stuff's still wrong in there. But you better believe that I'm putting in applications. I had a job at Sears, but they fired me for missing so much work, and then still having to be gone for another month. Oh, well, I didn't want to work there anyway, I say with a bit of indignation. Who am I kidding? I was grateful to have the job, even though I called it the McDonalds of the department store. You always miss what you don't have, huh?
I hate my car. A lot. I wish I could sell it for gas money, ha ha.
The loud music is hurting my ears, and my head, and I'm about this close to starting the kidney punches.
I went to the pet store today and played with the Gineau pigs. I wished I was one.
Sorry, this is horribly unorganized rambling, but I'm angry and sad and worried. See, David? Candice's angry face (joke attempt # 1).
Anyway.
Adrian, I'll call you Wednesday or Thursday for some awesome fun hang-out time. Or you call me. Either way.
ps Minus the Bear is going to be in Gainesville Thursday. It's like $12.00, so I probably won't go, but someone should. They're kinda awesome.

So, here's what's going on in my life at the moment:
Finished the semester with Bs in marketing (YES!!!!) and ceramics (double YES!!!!), a B+ in Evolution of Human Species (errr....yay!), and a C in intor to computer design (Oh... my... God, that is the easiest class in the world, I can't believe that I didn't do the stupid little ten-point assignments).
As a result of this and only taking 3 classes last semester, I have lost my thousand dollar a semester scholarship, and it's non-renewable. But, they did replace it with a $500 scholarship, and they upped my $750 military scholarhip to $1000/semester so it's not all bad.
In other news, I'm off my crutches!!! OMFG!! So no more moon boot for me except for the next couple weeks at night.
I start physical therapy on Monday, three times a week. My doctor said I couldn't go back to work at Sears (still working in Pegasus Landing as a RHAP, where I sit the entire night)until I'm done with that. So I talked to my boss yesterday before I talked to my doctor (today), and he said-and I'm paraphrasing here-that if I had to be gone for another month, I'm fired. He said that he had fired people for taking a week and a half off for finals. Correct me if I'm wrong, but finals aren't an emergency situation. Pardon me for BEING HIT BY A FUCKING CAR!!! Every time that I talked to him he made me feel like shit about being injured and unable to work. I even turned my speakerphone so Weslie could hear him, and she was kind of outraged. So... I'm going to look into unemployment and disability, and my insurance company is supposed to be compensating me for missed work, but I'm only part time, and I was only working there for a couple weeks, but still... I'm pissed. But on the bright side, we're trying to settle with Ben's insurance company out of court for extra money.
So I'm going to try and find a secretary job or something where I sit all the time, because Candice is a broke-ass scrub.
I'm going home from the Wednesday before June 16th to that Sunday, just so everyone knows. I may be flying in so that my engine doesn't fall out at 80 mph. My sister's going to be here too, so I'm very excited about that.
I think I'm only takin an advertiing class this summer and that's it.
Just so everyone knows, the fashion show is going to be Friday, October 13th, more than likely.
Currently I'm cleanning my room and learning to play my guitar, finally. These are my early summer projects.
So there you have it.

I just realized that my roommate's room is WAY too close to mine.... She has a guy over and she doesn't know I'm home. It's like a bad sitcom or something. Sheesh.

Yay! As Alice Cooper would say, school's out. Umm... okay. Love you all!

It's that time again, folks. So pack up your textbooks and put away your TVs. You won't be needing them. Be sure to call your parents and make them send you a care package with cookies, tea and caffeine pills. I know I did!
One down, three to go, and I'm multitasking by putting my (remaining) CDs in my iTunes library.
In other news, I have my MRIs Friday, and my appointment to have them analyzed on the 6th of May. I have a moonboot, aka Das Boot, a cam walker, the boot, the lastest in footwear, and some new summer fashions! All the boys will come running to me now, like sharks to chum. A drunk guy at Steak and Shake told me so.
Still not allowed to go to work, but I'm being compensated 60% by my insurance company, and 40% by his. Yayzorzsaurus.
Ooh, there's a down with finals party that yours truly is throwing this Friday, with Tati. I think the theme is going to be cheesy. Nachos, cheesy clothes and music, the works.
Right now I'm going to go throw cylinders in the ceramics studio and then go to work, where I'll be studying all night.
Good night and good luck. Did I really just write that?

I'm a triple threat.
1. I'm drunk, and making new lyrics to Bohemian Rhapsody for Amy, my equally drunk roommate.
2. I have crutches. And a moon boot. It's a new summer fashion!
3. I just called Amy a ho-asaurus rex.
I need to go to bed.
Wish I could explain it better, because it would be hi-larious, but I can't, so you probably are all thinking that this is dumb and I should go to bed. And I should. Ah, drunken writing. What a horrible idea.

Yeah so it's much worse than I thought. They can't even tell what's wrong with me yet because my leg is so swollen. I'm basically bedridden for the next week or so. Call me. Better yet, bring me cookies : )