Gimme Some Candy!
02/28/2003
7:32 p.m.
I'm having one of those moods. One of those emotional roller coasters that I know I didn't wait 2 hours in line to ride on. I've been all over the place. Bouncy-off-the-walls-scary hyper, gritting-teeth-and-hating-everyone angry, weepy-please-just-hold-me-while-I-cry-over-this-hallmark-commercial sad. Up and down and around the corners. And before you say anything, it's not PMS. You see, I've quit smoking. As of 11:45 am ET Thursday, February 27, 2003, I have been smoke-free. I know it's not that long, but since I've been going cold turkey, every second counts. Fortune Cookie doesn't believe I can do it, but I shall prove him wrong. Being at work and driving are not the challenges. It's going out in the evening. Sitting in a bar with friends with foamy goodness in hand is so challenging and last night was trivia night at local Tasty Beverage Establishment, so you can see the hands startin' to twitch. I actually got through it fairly well. I substituted nicotine with extremely disturbing, jumpy behavior. I spent a good portion of the evening answering every trivia question "Tiberius", James T. Kirk's middle name. Next was my impersonation of Adam Sandler's crazy trick-or-treaters on SNL: "Hey look!! I'm scary beer-bottle-chin girl! It's crraazzyyy! Gimme some candy!"(This, of course, being said while a beer bottle is held to my chin.) The first half of today was the evil, bitter anger mood. Everyone either drove too slow, drove too fast, was too stupid, too annoying, never listened, was too nosy, too greedy, or too angry(not including myself, though). The headache started about 10 o'clock this morning and has steadily hung on all thoughout the day. I have progressed fully into the sad, weepy stage. The music should say it all. I can barely finish a sentence without grabbing a tissue. Maybe I should quit listening to Delilah on the local light rock radio station. I know I shouldn't be reading articles like this one about Mister Rogers. This article has got to be one of the best articles I've ever read. If you do nothing else today, read it. Be prepared to cry. You know, ever since Mister Roger's death, I believe I feel a little of my childhood has died with him. It makes me want to scoop up my 2 year old nephew and squeeze some of his magic into me. I wish I were forever 5 years old with Bert & Ernie, Mister Rogers, and my beat up "Mr. Blankie". I miss my mom. *Sniff* I gotta learn when to quit. Then again, maybe I have.
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� Lysistrata 2003-2004
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