So Evan and I were discussing...something...this morning. I'm not entirely sure what (honeslty I'm amazed that I can communicate with more than differently toned grunts at 7am). But whatever the subject, he started his argument with the word "irregardless".

"Irregardless--".
"Wait--did you just say 'irregardless'?"
"Yeah, so?"
"You know that's not a word, right?"
"What?"
"Irregardless. It isn't a word."
"What does it matter? You knew what I was saying."
"It matters because it completely changes what you meant. Like people who say 'could care less'."
"Huh?"
"People who say 'could care less' when they mean 'couldn't care less'. It's the complete opposite of--"
"That doesn't matter, either! As long as people know what you're saying, it's an accepted term of phrase."
"...Did you just say 'term of phrase'?"
"...I hate you."

Hahahahah. We really shouldn't talk to eatch other that early in the morning, ha.


In other news, I still have no idea what I'm going to do about tomorrow. I don't want to go to the grave. I just don't. I want to live the day like any other and just not think about it. However, that just seems so...disrespectful (even though that's pretty much what I do on the anniversary of my sister's death. I call my mom cos she expects me to and would be hurt if I didn't, but I pretty much just treat the day like any other. She also died 13 years ago, though, so it is quite a bit different). Evan said that if I feel that way I should still do something to honor him, and that doesn't have to be all sad and mopey, but I'm not sure what I could even do. I was thinking that, if I go to Ellwood I could ask Evan to come with me, so at least I didn't have to make the drive alone, but the one time he's come with me to the grave (which I think may be the only time he's been) it just kind of felt...wrong. Same with visiting the Mazzants, which I would do if i go. When we stopped by during Xmas it was just weird. "Hey guys, you remember your dead son's best friend that I'm shacking up with, right?" Ugh. I mean, they've been supportive of me moving on and of our relatioship (even if they did get him confused with Ashton at John Todd and Sarah's wedding, which was hilarious (and a rather easy mistake to make I guess with the whole identical twin thing, even though I don't see it)), so I know that all of this anxiety and uncomfortable feelings are mine that I'm projecting. But still....ugh.

Maybe I'll just sleep through the day. That sounds exciting. Except then I'd have nightmares. Fucking yay. Bah.

Please tell me this guy's blog is just satire? Please?

http://mikeeusa.pressword.com

A snippit:

Some Men’s Rights Movement (if there exists such a thing) commentators have, at diffrent times, tried to come up with a nice declaration of what the “movement” is all about, or what it should be all about, or what they would like it to be all about. They’ve drafted rather long documents containing points that they think men should agree with, stand by, and together fight for implementation, etc. These documents containined both “rights” and “responsibilities”; they were rather constraining, and really didn’t object much to the current pro-women’s rights culture nor say anything that was very benificial to men’s wishes at all (well, how benificial can words ever be?). Here’s my contribution to the haystack:

The prerogative of a Man is to find for himself a mate. So much as he avoids taking another man’s mate, no barrier (legal or customary) should be placed to obstruct him.
Females should be married off to men once said females are able to have children (usually at age 12, 13, or 14.)
The “penalty” for the rape of a young unmarried female should be that she is awarded to the man as a permanent wife of his (As stated in Deuteronomy 22)
Men should rape their wives at will.
Females should obey their husbands in all things, as if they were domestic servants.
If a nation seeks to opress its men by denying them these liberties, than it should be destroyed.

Death To women’s Rights
Viva Men’s Liberty
Liberty (for Men). Equality (amongst Men). Fraternity

–MikeeUSA–


He also thinks that men should be allowed to own whatever heavy weaponry they wish (such as tanks and machine guns), that any woman who dares speak up against or seek to imprison men should be killed and that the "fight" for "men's rights" should be one of violence and blood as "talking" isn't the same as "fighting", that arresting a man is the same as kidnapping and therefore the man has the right to beat a female officer unconcious, etc.

Please, please tell me it's not real?


In other news: I just got the following text from Evan:
I am currently wearing your pants that say "BADGIRL" on the ass.


Heeheeheehee

While folding laundry yesterday I came across a small, tan Victoria's Secret thong.

Now...I don't wear thongs. Nevertheless ones that are that teeny tiny (I wish I could fit my hips into something that small), or from Victoria's Secret (too poor for undies that don't come in a five pack). So I'm rather curious as to where these came from.

The obvious answer is that we live in an apt complex with one set of washer/dryers for prolly 20 or so apartments. And, as Evan pointed out, my underwear has been hung on the "whose are these??" hook in the laundry room more times than I can count (really, why does my underwear get misplaced down there so often?), it's not hard to make the connection that this was just a pair that got left in the dryer and mixed up with our clothes.

Still. A) It was fun to give Evan a hard time about it yesterday and b) he really is lucky that I trust him and am not the jealous type who jumps to conclusion. I kind of wish I still posted on AMA as the responses to the subesquent "what would You think if you found a thong that did not belong to you mixed up in your clean clothes?" post would have been hilarious. Ah well.

Time to make a trip to the "whose underwear are these??" hook. Ha.

Evan and I went to Kennywood Sunday night. It was loads of fun and surprisingly (or not so) we were able to ride everything we wanted (save for the water rides cos neither of us really liked the idea of walking around wet) between 6 and 11 when the park closed. Good times. The best part, though, was standing in line for the Thunderbolt. It's this awesome old wooden coaster where you wait in line under a little enclosure. So, as we're waiting for the first car, the girl in front of us happens to look up and then scream, cowering into her boyfriend and pushing as hard as she could to get the both of them as close to the wall as possible. Wondering what the problem is, I look up as well. And that's when I see them. Spiders. Dozens of them. There was probably at least fifty of them spread across a 10x10 space above our heads. And these weren't just little garden spiders, either. these things were freaking huge. Like, at least the size of quarters, if not half dollars. They were so big I could see every detail of their colouring and the stripes on their legs from six or so feet below them. Big. Monster. Spiders. They had obviously been eating all of the bugs that are attracted to the flourescent lights attached to the ceiling of the enclosure.

Now I'm not afraid of spiders. I don't mind them hanging out outside where they live and if I see one in the house, I catch it in a cup and put it outside. They don't frighten me. However, the idea that one of those monster things would be able to drop itself onto my head was absolutely terrifying. So I followed the example of the frightened girl in front of me and huddled as close to the wall as I could, taking Evan with me.

Slowly, the others around us seemed to be able to tell that something was amiss. They noticed two girls and their dates waiting in line for the first car huddled against the wall, their wide, horror struck eyes staring at the ceiling unable to break away from whatever was up there. So they started looking up. Screams began to fill the enclosure. Wide berths appeared in line under the most concentrated areas. Chaos ensued. And the poor 15 year olds sweating it out in the muggy August heat for minimum wage at a job that seemed like a fun idea at the time sighed into their walky talkies, cursed under their breaths and hearded us into the cars as fast as possible saying "the faster you load the faster you get away from the spiders" .

After what seemed like ages, but was really only three minutes, we were first in line and dove into our seats as I kept my eyes to the ceiling. And, as I watched, one brown, spindly legged little bugger lowered himself ever so slowly and gently down his sparkling thread attached to the glowing fluorescent lighting directly into the seat behind us where two frightened teenage girls sat. They screamed, trying to claw their way out of the seat, I jumped up, sitting on the side, making sure there wasn't a way he could crawl his way into ours and the kids working there again repeated "the sooner you sit down the sooner you get away from the spiders". The girls settled, the ride started, we went up a hill, down another and then the girls remembered-- that spider fell INTO their seat. Again their were screams and as I turned to look at them one of the girls tried to stand up and climb out of the car while it was moving. Her companion screamed again, I shouted at her to sit down and not be an idiot and told her some lie about spiders not even being able to live at such speeds and she finally settled and cried the next thirty seconds and two hills until the ride came to a full and complete stop and she took off like a bat out of hell.

Greatest rollercoster experience ever.