Tuesday, July 31, 2001

Well, it's been a few days now, and my sleep patterns are back to normal. And yes, I have kept visiting the sites of people from the Blogathon...I think it's so cool that in just one night, I got to check out 101 new sites! I usually only visit three or four. I'm expanding my horizons...I can put that on a resume, right?

Speaking of resumes, I still have no job. But it's okay, I'll survive. I'm not flat broke, so it's not like I'm going to be homeless next week and eating dry, generic Top Ramen out of the package. I did have a promising interview the other day, so we'll see how that went.

Well, I think I tapped my blogging creativity the other night. I can't think of a darn thing to say. I have some movie reviews for y'all, but they're on my other computer, so I'll probably get those up tomorrow. Until then, nighty night!

Sunday, July 29, 2001

Eh, what the hell. I'm still up, might as well keep posting. Mind you, this is all Pete's fault. We've been emailing all morning, and that just kind of gave me my fourth wind. Interesting how stimulating conversation will do that to you.

Get your minds out of the gutter, ya perverts!

I'm currently trying out a lip color called "Mocha Mama". I have no idea what it looks like, because I'm not near a mirror. But it's a pretty color when it rubs off on my water bottle.

This not-sleepiness thing is interesting. I've only experienced it a few times in my life. Mostly when I was younger and had to stay up all night to write paper or something. I think I'll definitely sleep well tonight.

Okay, the only problem with my continued blogging is I think I ran out of ideas at noon.
Hours Left: None! We can sleep now!
What am I doing: Preparing for sleep.

Once upon a time there was a girl who stayed up all night, along with 100 or so other people, to raise money for charity and have fun. And when it was all over, she was left with several people to thank.

1. Cat. Of course. For coming up with this whole idea. You rock.
2. Mom. For being my very first sponsor, and donating your house for the night. Definitely more comfortable than my apartment.
3. Marianne. For putting up with me all night and morning.
4. Anna. For being my second sponsor, and for your support.
5. Gretchen. Again, for sponsoring and for just being cool. I hope you feel better soon.
6. Bri. For keeping me company in the late night, lonely hours.
7. Susan. For keeping company in the earlier afternoon lonely hours.
8. Pete. For being so goddamn loveable and giving up your Sunday afternoon be flirtastic with me.

Oh yeah, few more...

Krisis supplied the music and the nekkid entertainment.
Dave had some fun of his own to contribute.
And I should probably thank Blogger for not crashing on me all night.

That's all, folks. It's been fun. Email me if you need anything. I'm goin' to bed, and not coming out until I've slept as much as I've blogged.
This is my second to last post. *sigh* I'm nostalgic already. Remember way back when, back when we were first starting, and half an hour just flew by? Yeah, you know, like 23 hours ago. Seems like yesterday. Oh wait. Heh. Sorry, being a dork. I'm done now. Well, no, probably not. But I'll try and tone it down, just for you.

I just finished reading the comics. Nothing terribly amusing in there today. That poses three questions for me. 1. Is it just because I'm tired that the comics don't seem funny? 2. Am I getting older and the comics are losing their appeal? or 3. Are the comics just not funny anymore?

I'd prefer to believe it's #1, although I don't like to think that I've lost my sense of humor just because I've been awake for a long time. I still think I'm pretty funny. And the fact that I find myself funny after 23 1/2 hours of blogging says to me that I. Am. A. God. I just had to point that out. Or, y'know, maybe I'm just having delusions of grandeur again. That's always a possibility.

So about 12 hours ago (I think...I can't remember exactly when I mentioned it), I said something about posting the song I've been writing here. Not going to happen. I told you it was iffy at best, so don't get all huffy on me. It's not ready to go. I was going to work on it this morning, but I have no voice right now (and I can't figure out how staying up all night would affect my voice, but it has. It's very weird). I'd also like to apologize to the different authors who's stories I was going to post during this. They'll all get posted in the next couple of days, but not right now.

I think that's about it for this post. I'll be back in half an hour with the final wrap-up.
Hours Left: 1 - Oh happy day!
What am I doing: Attempting creativity. I apologize in advance.

I have now been up for 26 hours. I'm still amusing (although a tad more insane than usual). I'm still obsessed with sporks. But that's not a bad thing. Sporks are wonderful utensils, that bring me back to my childhood, and elementary school lunches that were eaten with said utensil.

But, sadly, I've got to get off the sporks. It's getting old and tired. I need a new obsession. And I believe I shall choose...uhh...Elvis Impersonators. The cheesiest of cheese. The bruised banana in the bunch. The King of wacky.

I love Elvis impersonators. Really, I do. We had a graduation party way back when I graduated from high school, and there was a sporktastic (sorry, couldn't help myself) Elvis there. He was the old Elvis. It was great...he sang for a couple of hours, and had (badly) scented scarves for the ladies in the audience. I think I still have mine somewhere. I've had to wash it a few times, though, because the scent was making all the clothes in my closet smell like cheap cologne. And then, in college, we rented an Elvis for our resident advisor's birthday. It came to something like $3 each. I guess the low low price should have tipped us off. He was...my god, I still can't think of him without laughing...possibly the worst Elvi I have ever seen. He was skinny and pimply, and going the old Vegas Elvis route. Totally wrong for him. And he sang. Not very well. But I suppose it was worth that $3 just for the laugh at his expense.

Here in Portland, we have the 24 Hour Church of Elvis. You can actually get married there for a few dollars. I've really got to stop in there again sometime soon.
I have four posts left. I think I can come up with creative ideas still. I've been making up words in my conversations with Pete. Now I think I need to define them.

Sporktastic - (spork-tas'tik) adv. - Something so wonderful, it surpasses the need for a regular fork and spoon. ie: That spaghetti is sporktastic!

Flirtastic - (flir-tas'tik) adv. - More flirtation than the average bear. ie: He responded well to her flirtastic ways.

Hussific - (huss-i'fik) adv. - Made hussy-like. ie: The admission of missing panties was hussific.

Questions? Comments?
Hours Left: 2
What am I doing: Emailing Pete again. If it weren't for him, I'd be asleep right now.

Men are so predictable. Not that it's a bad thing. I like knowing how they're going to respond to something. Makes it easier to decide whether to say it or not.
Melissa's Celebrity Crush of the Night: *drumroll please* Nobody. Seriously. I've pondered this one for at least twenty minutes now, and I can't come up with a single person. Granted, I think Adam Garcia (from Coyote Ugly) is hot, and I will always have a deep and abiding affection for Ewan McGregor, but I can't honestly say I have a crush on either one of them.

Well, since it's been a while since I told you that awful story, I thought I'd tell another one. No promises on how good it's going to be...I've officially been up for 25 hours now.

Paul the Friendly Dragon


Once upon a time, there was a dragon named Paul. Paul was a very sweet dragon, and his most prized possession was a blue and pink afgahn blanket made for him by a princess named Annie.

One day, Paul was confronted by the befuddled knight from lands afar, who's name was Simon. Simon believed that Paul was an evil dragon (because he had seen Paul's evil twin, Bubba, who wasn't so much evil as just plain dumb), and made it his quest to vanquish the dragon from the land.

Paul tried to reason with Simon, tried to talk him out of his quest, but he failed, for two reasons. First, befuddled knights weren't likely to listen to dragons they believed to be evil, and second, because dragons can't talk, silly. When they try to speak, it comes out as sort of a roar, with the occasional fire breathing thrown in for good measure. So they're greatly misunderstood creatures, you see.

Anyway, Simon didn't understand, and didn't want to understand if it meant having his armor melted and his eyebrows singed by a possibly evil dragon, and went on with his quest to banish poor Paul. Princess Annie saw what was happening from her tower high above the kingdom, and raced down the several flights of stairs to save her friendly dragon. Throwing herself in front of Paul, she screamed for Simon to stop.

"Princess, get out of the way!" he admonished her, trying to dodge around her.

She shook her head and stood her ground. "This is Paul. He's a good dragon."

"Don't be absurd," Simon said, and Paul didn't help much when he huffed indignantly, melting the tip of Simon's sword. "There are no good dragons," Simon continued, after dropping the sword in horror and stepping back a few paces.

The princess scowled at him. "How do you know?" she asked. "Have you ever gotten to know one?"

"Of course not. You'd be killed if you even got near..." he trailed off as he noticed a large tear trickling down Paul's scaly cheek.

Princess Annie noticed it too. "See, you've gone and hurt his feelings," she said, shooing Simon away even further. "Now go on, apologize, then go home," she instructed.

"I'll do no such thing. I have to save you from the dragon!" Simon said, moving to swoop her up into a heroic embrace.

Annie sidestepped him, trying not to giggle when Paul snorted in laughter and caught the feather atop Simon's helmet on fire.

Simon backed away again. "Right. Sorry about the thinking you were evil thing," he said, not wanting the dragon to burn him to pieces. It would be nice also if Annie thought he was noble, and there was no way she would think that if he went and killed her dragon. "I'll just go now." He turned and slowly walked away, his head hung in defeat, until he heard the princess call his name.

"Simon, wait!"

He turned with a hopeful look upon his face. "Yes?"

"You forgot your sword." She handed him the weapon, then turned her back and walked with Paul back to his cave. Simon was never heard of in that kingdom again, but between you and me, I heard he moved up into the mountains and became a hermit.

The End
Hours Left: 3
What am I doing: Eh. None of your damn business. Oh, what the heck. See below.

Pete's online! I'm very happily emailing him right now.
Oh hell, it's that time again. I've discovered that I have a strange fascination with sporks tonight. It's odd. I'm not usually so taken with gender-confused silverware.

And oh! I don't have a celebrity crush of the night yet! I must get one soon. At least in the next three and a half hours. I'm making a mental note, but I'd better write it down, too. Lord knows what I'll remember in three minutes.
Hours left: 4
What am I doing: Emailing people.

I have Gloria Gaynor stuck in my head right now. Which means I'm gonna have to listen to "I Will Survive" at least once before the morning is out. Damn.

Aww...my cat has decided to join me in my stolen chair of Sleepiness. Yeah, yeah, I'm sleepy. But I'm not quitting. If everyone else can make it, so can I. (And now, in my head, I can hear my mother: "If everyone else jumped off a cliff, would you do that too?" =P My mom, always has to be the logical one...)
Aah, I'm gonna suck on this one. I've got about 30 seconds to write it. But look, I just gave you the sci-fi script, Alien Cows from the Planet Spork. So get off my back.
Have I mentioned that I love this site? Davezilla rocks. Here's my sci-fi script.

Scene I. Prophecy Fulfilled
[A large meteor is hovering the earth. Its arrival is believed to be the fulfilling of an ancient Aztec prophecy.]

The Top Scientist is consulted: “I’ve read legends about it in my Frogs . We believe there are only 42 left in Las Vegas . If it’s allowed to land, it could alter time and space forever! The only way to destroy them is with the ancient panties from Atlantis!”

Scene II. Attack
[The meteor crashes to earth. Strange creatures escape and attempt to overtake the planet.]

“They must have overheard us talking about the panties and followed us here! They’ve destroyed everything in their path!”

[The leader of the space creatures steps forward.]

“Oh my Isis . Look at the size of its belly button !” screamed the General.

“One thing’s for certain General; it’s not human. It appears to be part Venus Fly Trap and part Spork .” exclaimed the Top Scientist.

“Easy! Don’t make any sudden movements General. I think it’s trying to fly with us.”

“It’s attacking with its radioactive Nasal cavity ! Team? Get out your bears and blog like you mean it!”

Scene III. Earth fights back
[Weapons bounce harmlessly off the creature.]

“The bullets have no effect!” said the General. “Try the sonic mug . Set weapons to drink . I’ll have to go into its lair alone. I’ll need some light. You there. Give me your candle .”

[The General calls back on his walkie-talkie.]

“The creature seems to understand me. We’ve been communicating telepathically using our toes . Team? It’s leaving the cave. Go for its shiny index finger . That’s its vulnerable spot.”

[The team attacks but the General waves them back.]

“No, sleep back! This is between me and him. We’ve got an old book to settle...”

Scene IV. End
[The panties works and the creatures are driven back into space. The General congratulates the team.]

“Well done team. The world is once again safe from the threat of alien cows . I think we can all sneeze easy now.”
Hours Left: 5
What am I doing: Tapping my foot in an obsessively compulsive manner.

Alrighty, I promised a good blog, and I intend to deliver. (oh god, the pressure...) I'm here to tell you, right now, about...something. I need a topic. Somebody give me a topic!

Hospitals. I'm talking with Gretchen about hospitals ('cause she's not feeling so good). I hate hospitals. Very few good things have ever happened to me there. Before I was 10, I went through 20 surgeries for a cancerous birthmark on the side of my face. You can't hardly see it anymore, but going into the hospital that much was pretty traumatic. When I was 13, they told me I could decide whether to continue with the surgeries, or stop. I chose to stop. Since then, I've only had one, and it was day surgery, in the office. Took an hour.

The only other time I've been in the hospital for something other than quick trips to the emergency room when me or my sister was sick, was almost six years ago. I was in a car accident, and broke my ankle. While I was sitting in my little curtained-off area, a friend of mine, Tim, stopped by to see me. Turned out he was in for a bout of chemotherapy, and he had heard I was there, so he brought me some magazines and said hello. That was the last time I ever saw Tim. I went to his funeral three months later.

So I don't go to hospitals anymore. I avoid them at pretty much any cost.

Questions? Comments?
Maybe this is my third wind. I'm doin' pretty good...haven't had to resort to tv or cd's yet, which is pretty amazing. But once again, I've procrastinated on the writing thing and have no time to tell you something interesting. I'll make it up to you next time, I promise. Right now I'm gonna go say hi to Gretchen.
Hours Left: 6
What am I doing: Making breakfast.

Wow. It's light outside. Not sunrise just yet, but that funny light before the dawn. Kind of eerie. It's still very quiet in the house...my sister and Rusty are asleep. The cats are up, though. They scared me to death...I went into the kitchen to make coffee, and they jumped up on the counter next to me, because I was standing near where they get their breakfast every morning. And now they're running all over the place, chasing each other around the furniture and plants. It's cute.
Heh.

My Porn Star Name is Lucy Childs
My Blues Singer Name is Blue Kennedy
My Punk Rock Band is called the Smelly Frogs
My name as an extra in “Star Wars” is Hussified the Spork Spork

Weeelllll...my computer decided to have a hissyfit and kick me out of the chat room. Which is actually okay, since I wasn't really chatting anyway. I was too busy laughing at pretty much everything on Dave's site. I will definitely be checking back there again after this whole thing is over.
Hours Left: 7
What am I doing: Uhhh...I don't even know.

I'm glad I'm not the only one who likes to pick on infomercials. That particular one reminds me of the time I was accosted at a Christmas Bazaar by a "magnetic therapy" salesman. I was asked to stand still as he rubbed all over by body with these cheesy magnets. Pervert. And he wasn't even cute!

Oh, I want to say hey to Nightbird over at Intergalactic Hussy. Turns out I know someone doin' this bloggin' thing.
You know what? I'm usually funnier than this. I don't know what the hell's wrong with me today. Well, no, I do, but I don't want to be a big Complainy Jean. Yeah, I made that up. Nobody has ever called anyone a Complainy Jean before. I'm so cool that I make up my own lingo. Go peel that onion with a slotted spoon.

Oh my god, I've turned into a lunatic. A raving, psychotic lunatic. No, not really. But that sounds like fun. Maybe I should try it sometime.

So I'm thinking it might just be time to break out the coffee, toast, and other assorted breakfast foods. I'm not particularly hungry, but I think if I take in any more caffiene without supplimenting it with a food item of some sort, I might just pass out. And that would just not do, not with less than eight hours to go. It would be downright embarrassing, it would.
Jack the Moth (ooh, hehehe...that's fun to say aloud...) has left the building.
Hours Left: 8
What am I doing: Wouldn't you like to know?

My moth (who I will now call Jack, just because), has decided to take a trip around the monitor. He's back to his original spot now, but it was quite the journey he took.

Oh, there he goes again. Exercise time for Jack.

Okay, Jack's starting to annoy me. I think it's time for him to go.

Pete says I'm a hussy. Or at least, he said I was a hussy a few days ago. I just thought I would share that, because I'm not wearing any panties right now. Yes, that's right, I've removed my panties for the sake of everyone awake and online right now.
It's 3:23 in the morning. I've sharpened all my lip liners and eye liner pencils. I've done the dishes. Well, okay, most of the dishes. The house is clean, the clothes are folded or ironed and hung. All is calm and serene, and there's a moth on my computer screen.

It's not really bothering me. It's been there all day. I figure it just wants to be a part of the Blogathon, too, so I decided to mention it. Immortalize it. This is a moth that will go down in history.
Hours Left: 9
What am I doing: Nothin'.

I have 20 minutes. I'm determined to actually write something this half hour. I think, since I'm online, and feeling particularly nostalgic these days, I'll tell you about Corey.

My cousin Tim introduced me to Corey when we were in junior high. We all went to the same church, and I was the only girl in our youth group, so I hung out with the guys a lot. And Corey was new. Turned out we had the same sense of humor, and we got along great. For years, we were friends. Until one fateful spring, we were on a choir tour together. I knew, at this point, that Corey had a crush on me. It was hard not to know...he was somewhat anti-social, and the only person he would talk to was me. I didn't really reciprocate, but I was very flattered. And I didn't really discourage it, which was probably my downfall.

It was late at night, and we were sitting together on the bus. I was sleepy, and using him as a pillow, when all of a sudden, I felt him kiss my forehead. I can still feel the exact spot where his lips touched my skin. At that moment, this light went off in my head, telling me what a great guy he was. And, being me, I freaked out. Not right then, of course. I pretended to be asleep, and freaked out later, when we reached the hotel and I was in my room with my roommates. The four of us stayed up all night talking about it.

The next day, things were a little weird between Corey and I. We didn't hang out as much, didn't talk as much. Mostly because I didn't know what to say to him. I think I mentioned that I was painfully shy back then. When we arrived back at home, we went our separate ways, and I didn't see him for a few weeks.

Eventually, Prom season rolled around. Brandon, the guy I liked at that point, made it quite clear that he was not going to prom. At all. So I called Corey, and asked if he would go with me. It took him about half a second to accept.

As prom week arrived, I ended up on another trip, that Brandon was on. We spent three days just hanging out and goofing around. The day of my prom, I was in San Francisco, and Corey was in Portland. I was scheduled to fly into town two hours before the dance. I had just finished getting ready when he rang the doorbell.

From that point on, things did not go well. My corsage fell off, he was sick, I was pining over Brandon. We had one dance, went for coffee, then he took me home. Home by 11:00 on prom night. It was awful.

Then, of course, a couple of years later, I realized how wonderful Corey was. Again. We were both in college, and I decided to email him. Just my luck, he had a girlfriend. Who knew me. Who had a daughter. Still, the two of us emailed back and forth for almost a year. I was so sure I could break them up, and I even got the nerve up to kiss him one night (I know, I'm a terrible person). That was the last night I saw Corey. It was four years ago. I always wonder what he's doing, if he married that girl, if he ever wonders what could have happened between us. I guess I'll never know.
2:25 and all's well. Things are quiet on the western front.

2:28 and not much has changed.

2:30. Huh. Look at that...five minutes of my life, summed up in three lines.
If I add strawberries and bananas to my ice cream, does that make it healthy?
Hours Left: 10
What am I doing: Snacking. I must exercise soon.

I have five minutes to expound on the virtues of my little sister. Providing that I spell things correctly and don't have to go back and fix every other word, this should be no problem. Not that my sister doesn't have a lot of virtues, but just because I can't think of more than five minutes worth of them right now.

Marianne is younger than me by three years, which I think is a good age difference. We went to school together twice...once when she was in kindergarden and I was in third grade, and then again in high school. Which was good, because we didn't really get along when we were younger. Just like every other pair of siblings. But she's the coolest of the cool sisters tonight. She hasn't complained *too* much about my using the phone line for fourteen hours. And when she got home from work, she put several cans of soda in the refrigerator for me. I didn't realize that until a few minutes ago, when I was looking for something to drink, and came across a bevy of chilled and caffinated beverages. And, seeing as how she can't have caffine, I knew they were for me. Aww. Anyway, I'm out of time now (gosh, I could have said a lot more if I hadn't been typing), so I'll probably say more about her later.
Wow. They're talking about cereal in the chat room. I'm not sure if I want to laugh or get snackie with it. Which reminds me, I never did get ice cream. In fact, I haven't moved an inch...can we say "low motivation"? Besides, I'm having too much fun watching people's webcams. I'm entranced by the sight of Krisis' ass.
Hours Left: 11
What am I doing: Blogging. Duh.

Alrighty. Bri had to go to bed, so I'm all yours again, Blogathon fans! I think I just got my second wind (either that or my brain is on lovely drugs that it's not telling me about). I've got energy, I've got pizzazz (I've always wanted pizzazz -- and did you know there's 3 ways to spell it?), I've got Diet Coke. I need sugar, too. Ice cream would be loverly right about now. Mmm...vanilla with strawberries on it. I'll have to go get that after I post. Anyway, I'm feeling much better than I was before. And now, I'm gonna try again with the AIM thing. Perhaps if I just use it off the AOL website, I'll be able to join the chat. And I so want to join the chat right now...I feel like I've been anti-social today.
Is it really that time again? Okay. Y'know, I'm a little hurt...apparently there are no bachelors out there tonight who are interested in a cute brunette. *sigh* Oh well.
Hours Left:12. Half way there!!
What am I doing: Checking out all the other blogs.

Okay, I've got to start paying attention to the clock. Once again, I'm just a few short minutes before it's time to post again, and I have no idea. And, this being the halfway point, I feel that I should write something deep and meaningful. But I can't think of anything, so this will have to suffice. Regular readers will probably recognize it.

I've learned that you cannot make someone love you. All you can do is stalk them and hope they panic and give in.

Saturday, July 28, 2001

On second thought, don't contact me on AIM. It hates me.
*cue cheesy music*

That's right, folks, it's time for Melissa's Dating Game! I'm not lookin' for true love, just a good time. (Side note: Geez, this is starting to sound like a personals ad...how pathetic can I get?) And I need three bachelors (I swear, it's in the rule book...three bachelors, no more, no less) who are willing to compete for the affections of a cute, funny, brunette. And no, I'm not being egotistical, I *am* cute, I've got several people who will attest to the fact that I'm funny (despite what you may think after reading 11 1/2 hours of Blogging), and, well, you'll have to trust the fact that I'm a brunette. But why the hell would I lie about that? That's just silly.

So if you think you fit the bill, let me know! You can email me at lissa_rae@hotmail.com, I'm on MSN Messenger as lissa_rae@hotmail.com (deja vu...didn't I just type that?), and AIM as MsLissaRae.
Hours Left: 13
What am I doing: Talking to Bri, reading about Tom's first kiss. Aww, it's so sweet!

So, Tom's story got me thinking about guys. I know, I know, the Gay Test said I was 41% gay, but that means that 59% of me still loves guys. Now, the last time I did this 24-hour thing, it was at about this point that I started Melissa's Dating Game. Complete with cheesy music (you'll have to provide your own, though). Look for the complete game in half an hour.
Aah. Food. Talking to Bri. Could life be better?

Yeah, I know it's short and I suck. There's 13 1/2 hours left. You'll get plenty of me later.
Hours Left: 14
What am I doing: Talking to Bri. Hi Bri!

Bri and I are discussing Twinkie consumption. How many Twinkies can you eat in one sitting? (The sitting ends when you either stop eating the Twinkies, or keel over from a heart attack.) I'm saying three. Bri's gone through a whole box, which I'm sure seemed like a good idea at the time, but that she says she regretted for days afterwards. I can certainly imagine.
Dinner was a no-go. I forgot that there's no food. I was going to make spaghetti, but there's no noodles. No bread to make sandwiches, nothing to put on the sandwiches if there were bread. *sob* I'm going to starve to death while blogging. It'll be in all the papers..."Young Woman Dies During Charity Drive."

Okay, so I'm a little melodramatic (and whiny, and yes, I realize this is not an attractive side of me). But I'm hungry, damnit!
Hours Left: 15
What am I doing: Cooking

Gone to make dinner. Back at 9:30.
I'm working on some ideas for later tonight. I *might* (and there are absolutely no promises here) post the song I've been working on. I've got to work out the right key ('cause right now it's very very low, and it's hurting my vocal chords to sing it), and check with Bri to see what she thinks first, but it's a definite maybe. Which doesn't actually mean yes in my language, unlike so many other people.

I kept thinking that I'd get some serious writing done during this thing. Not at all. Haven't even opened a Word file. And then I start thinking that I'll do it later, but later I'm going to be so tired that it almost wouldn't be worth writing. But we'll see.
Hours Left: 16
What am I doing: Nothing. That's not true. I'm coveting a nap right about now.

*Yawn* Wow. There's several things I could be doing right now that wouldn't interfere with this Blogathon. But instead, I'm sitting like a lump in my chair, doing nothing, boring myself to sleep. I think I'll get up now.
Oh my gosh! I have to post again, and I haven't been paying any attention to the time, just kind of goofing around, looking at other stuff. Now I only have two minutes left to come up with something witty and urbane. I always kind of wondered what urbane meant...hold on a sec while I go look it up...

ur-bane: Polite, refined, and often elegant in manner.

Now I know.
Hours Left: 17
What am I doing: Writing a song.

I betcha didn't know I write songs, huh? Technically, I write music. I suck at lyrics. But Bri sent me a song a little over a month ago, and I dug it up the other day and started writing music for it. Only I haven't actually been writing the music down, so I keep forgetting how the melody on the verses goes. But I know the basic chords. I suppose I could write the music down, but it's so time consuming. I only do it by hand. I tried using Finale, but it took me an hour to get one line done, so I stopped. My friend Lisa says she'll teach me how to use it this fall, so until then, it's all handwritten, time consuming music. Which means I'm more likely to just memorize it and record it that way, then send it to whoever I need to.

I grew up playing the piano. I couldn't start taking lessons until I was eight, but after that, it was the one thing my mother insisted I do. So I took lessons for ten years, until I graduated from high school, and I was pretty good. But my main interest was singing. I took lessons for that, too, just not as many. The only problem was, I'm shy. I used to be *extremely* shy, and I'm much better now, but it was very hard for me to sing in public. I've only recently gotten over that, and just last month, I started getting my name out there as a wedding singer (I know, I conjure up images of Adam Sandler in a powder blue tux, too). I did a wedding last week, and it was so much fun! I've decided that before next summer, I'm going to go into the studio with my dad (who I usually sing with), and record a demo CD. I'm very excited.
My sister and I are adopted. Very few people know that. It's not like it's some big secret, it just never comes up as a topic of conversation. Last weekend, my family was at a wedding, and my friend Jeanine was trying to figure out which one of my parents I look like. Well, neither. She's adopted, too, and she says that we are the chosen children. A lot of people say that adopted children are unwanted by their parents, but that's just not true. My parents chose me. They could have chosen any other kid, but they picked me. How cool is that?

The whole adoption thing has never really been a big deal to me. My sister had a problem with it when she was younger, but she's dealt with it and moved on. But a lot of people ask me if I ever want to meet my birth parents. I can say, with only a small bit of uncertainty, that I don't. I mean, it would be interesting to know what they looked like, what my real heritage is, and it would be great to be able to answer all the questions on the doctor's forms that ask about family illnesses. But other than that, I'm not really interested. I've got parents. Great parents, who love me and were able to take care of me when my natural parents weren't. And I don't hold it against my natural parents. But feeling sorry for them because they couldn't handle having a baby isn't enough to make me want to meet them.

Questions? Comments?
Hours Left: 18
What am I doing: I don't know. Nothing, really. Reading other peoples' blogs and worrying about how boring I am.

First he stole my chair, then he stole my Care Bear's sleeping bag...

That damn dog gets everything. I'm a little bitter. But I love him, 'cause he's cute, even if he does pee on strangers, chase my cat, and his own chair.

And yeah, I had a Care Bear's sleeping bag when I was little. My sister had one, too. We had matching bags, it was really cute. And I still used mine in high school, when it was too hot to sleep inside so I camped out on the back porch instead. Hey, it was the back porch. Nobody was going to see it but my family, and they didn't really care. Besides that, most of my friends knew I was kind of a geek anyway. Still am.

Yay! My best friend, Susan, just popped online to say hi. I have someone to talk to!
Just wanted to let you know I'm naked right now...
Grr...my computer crashed. Luckily, it crashed at 5:10, giving me 20 minutes before I had to send out a message again, but it did it towards the end of a large download. Which means I have to do it all over again. And then I went to forage for food while rebooting the computer, and realized exactly why my sister was going to the grocery store. There is very little to eat in this house. I'm going to have to be creative to come up with a healthy and tasty dinner later.

I'm shocking myself so far by not having turned on the television. Usually I'm TV Girl...you name the show, I've probably watched at least one episode of it. But today, nothing. That could be because it's Saturday afternoon and there's nothing on, but I think it's just that I'm so easily able to entertain myself without the use of television. I'm not sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing...being that easily entertained.

Oh, and I'm on AIM now...ID is MsLissaRae. Stop by and say hi!
Hours left: 19
What am I doing: Updating my website.

Well, I just got up Bri's latest story Never Feel Again. It's a great, lovely story, which I'll tell her myself later when she shows up to keep me company (as long as she doesn't have to work early tomorrow morning). So I'll wait to say hi until she's around.

Anybody want to buy a WebTV system-thingy? My sister is selling my grandpa's, which is the only reason she keeps calling me from work. Not to support her favorite (and only, that we know of) older sister. Oh yeah, feelin' the love.
God damnit. I got this link from tainted-epitome.com, who got the link from www.imabrat.com, and decided to check it out. Apparently, I'm only worth $1,989,570.00. Which, granted, is higher than the average female, but still. Not even 2 mil? *sigh* How depressing.

I just took Rusty out for a while, and while I was walking around, I noticed my dad's orchard. Well, his small area that happens to have what we think are fruit trees in it, I should probably call it. He's been trying to grow an orchard for years now, and he has this small, fenced off area of to the side of the house with nine trees in it. And this year, one of the trees is bearing fruit! If, by bearing fruit, you mean it has four tiny apples on it. Four apples. In the entire orchard.

Dad's kind of a farmer-y guy. I mean, to look at him, you wouldn't think he was a farmer, but he likes to grow things. He's usually got more tomatoes and zucchini than the normal family could ever use. To get rid of all of it, I end up making zucchini bread and giving it to every single person I know, and he makes spaghetti sauce. He's also quite the pickle-maker. That's the one thing he makes that people can't get enough of...homemade pickles. They're kind of spicy, though. Mostly because he puts the hottest peppers he can find in with the pickles. But they're damn tasty, and go well with cheddar cheese and peanut butter toast (and I don't mean cheese and peanut butter *both* on the toast, I mean seperately. Ick.). Which sounds really good right now. Methinks it's time for a snackie-pooh. You look around, enjoy more blogs, read some stories, whatever. I'll be back in 30 minutes.
Hours Left: 20
What am I doing: Ironing the dress I'm wearing. Woo!

If Clothes Could Talk...


...my dress would be having a fit right about now. It would be saying, "Oh my god, I've been sitting, crumpled up, in the bottom of her closet for a year, and now she decides to get me out and wear me. And if that wasn't enough, she ironed me! I don't think she's ever ironed me!"

Okay, that's enough from my dress now. It's making me sound like a slob. Which I am, but still.

I also got a call from my sister, who informed me that she's not at the grocery store, she's at work. I was wondering what the hell was taking her so long to get soda and fruit. And now Rusty, the most spoiled dog in the universe, is informing me that he would like to go outside and play. Which is fine with me, because it looks as if the clouds have burned off and it's actually nice out there. So I'm gonna post this now and go play.
Three minutes left to post, and I've got nothin'.

Nothing, I tell you. Nothing.

My mind is this empty open space, with little dust mites in the corners.

I blame it all on Krisis (sorry!), because I'm spending too much time downloading and listening to his music.

And now it's time to post. And you know what I've got? Nothing.
Hours to go: 21
What am I doing: Surfing the other Blogger's sites.

So, I think it's about time for a (very short) story...

Once upon a time, there was a young woman who took walks every night. She would leave her house and walk over the bridge and into the city, where she would wander the streets and see what kind of shops she could find.

One night as she was walking, she came across a small skateboarding store, hidden between two larger shops. She would have passed right by it if it hadn't been for the very loud band practicing inside. So she stopped to listen for a while, and eventually one of the musicians inside noticed her and came over to let her in.

She smiled and thanked him, then stood against the back wall and listened to the music. When they had finished, she introduced herself and told them how much she'd enjoyed the music. They asked if she sang, and she said yes. They had lyrics to their songs, but their singer had abandoned them, and they wondered if she'd like to try it out.

A mere month later, they had cut a demo CD and had gotten a manager. A year later, they were touring Europe. Two years later, they were the biggest band in the world. And they all lived happily ever after.

The End


Okay, okay, it sucked, but I'm late to post and I want to get this out the door. I'll write a better story later.
So I'm taping myself while I Blog today. Mostly because I'm also surfing around the 'net, and if I see something interesting that I might want to talk about later, I don't want to forget what it was. But also because I tend to talk to myself sometimes (oh, don't tell me that you don't! Liar.), and occasionally, I say interesting things. Want a copy of the tape? Go and sign up to Sponsor Me, then email me and let me know you want a copy, and where to send it to.

I did indeed delve into my bag o' fun, and here's what I pulled out: a rose candle and a candle holder (although, after lighting it, I realized it's still light outside, and in here, and it's kind of pointless to have a candle going right now), my tape recorder and an old tape of something or another that I decided to tape over, and my leopard print slippers, 'cause my feet are cold. I thought it might be a nice day today, but it looks like I was wrong. It's almost downright cold (or at least it was this morning when I was outside), and pretty cloudy. So I'm glad I'm inside today.
*sigh* Jocelyn is only 33% gay. But she's the coolest of the cool for emailing me to let me know.
Hours to go: 22
What am I doing: Listening to music, gathering up the courage and motivation to delve into my bag. It's a mess.

Aah, bless my sister for downloading WinAmp when she came home from college this summer. Now I can listen to Krisis' music. I'm all happy.

I was kind of unmotivated for this post. I think it's just because the first few hours are going to be kind of boring. I'll start telling stories soon, I'm sure. And they'll be funny. Want me to tell you a story? I'll be on MSN Messanger all day (and I'll turn on AIM later - screen name there is MsLissaRae)...my screenname is lissa_rae@hotmail.com ... stop on by and say hello, and give me three words for your story. I'll try and get it up here on the Blog.
Heh. I just took The Gay Test. According to that, I'm 41% gay. Go take it, then email me and let me know how you did.
Hours to go: 23
What am I doing: Eating pizza, moving furniture around to make myself more comfortable.

So right now, I'm living out of a bag in my mom's computer room. Mom's not here, she's on vacation with my dad, and my sister was just leaving for the grocery store as I pulled in. She promised to bring me back fruit and caffinated soda. The people I know are being very supportive of me today. If they're not sponsoring me, they're promising to get online and email me, or, in the case of my best friends, offering up the use of their recliner so I'd have something comfortable to sit in. I declined the offer (that recliner's been gathering dust in their garage for six months now, I think), but it was still nice of them to offer.

My parent's dog, Rusty, is treated like their third child. He has his own chair in the living room (which used to be *my* chair before he came along), he sleeps *under* the covers in their bed, and my sister *makes* his dog cookies. No store bought treats for this dog. Homemade all the way. He's mad at me right now because I stole his chair to sit in today. It was either that or the old dining room chair they've been using. There is no way my ass could have made it through 24 hours of sitting on that hard chair. So Rusty had to sacrifice. He just kind of groaned, glared at me, then crawled up on the couch and fell asleep. He's a very expressive dog.

Well, my pizza got cold while I was typing, so I'm gonna go heat it up again. Be back in 30.
Wow. It's that time again. See how time flies when you're having fun? Yeah, me too. So I just want to mention my sponsors, who are absolutely wonderful. We've got my mom, who I'll write more about later, I promise. She's not reading today (which is probably for the best, since even *I* don't know what I'm going to be writing about, and I don't want to say that my mom's a little conservative, but, well...she is), but she's offered up her house and computer (which has unlimited internet access, unlike my measly 40 hours *mutters under her breath* damn NetZero). Next up is Anna, who's a 'net buddy of mine. Hi Anna! She's got a now-defunct site, where I was the official question asker and message board gal. You can still check it out...she had some pretty funny journals that are worth taking a look at in the Archive.

My last sponsor is Gretchen over at tainted-epitome, who is another member of the Blogathon. She's doin' all sorts of fun stuff over there...poems, quotes, artwork...and is even doing extra posts for every sponsor she has. She's also the one who made the cute little graphic with the kids and the countdown (what, you thought that was *me*? Little Miss Not-Artistic-At-All?).

Oh, I have to change something I said earlier. It is not, in fact, 109 people. The count is down to 101. And darn it, I'm done early. Still have 4 minutes to go. What shall I say? Lalalalalala....can't think of anything. Think it would be a mortal sin to post early? Ah heck, I'll just go check my email, see if there's anything interesting there.

Bri wrote a new story! And she didn't even tell me she was writing it! I think that's sooooo cool (geez, I sound like a 12 year old). I'll be posting it later, I promise. Along with a bunch of other stories.
It's time! As I type, 109 different people around the world are doing the same thing. All in the name of fun and charity. I think that's amazing. Bear with me for the first few hours, noon is early for me on a Saturday. :) Besides that, I've already been up and going for a few hours now. Seen a few friends, went to the health club. *Yawn* It's really time for a nap, but I can't do that today. Gotta be up for the next 24 hours. And I'm excited to do this. I have a lot of things planned. Okay, well, not really, but I do have a few things planned. And now I have to go, because it's noon and time to post, and I don't want to waste all my cool posts in the first hour and a half. So off I go, and I'll talk to y'all again in half an hour.

Friday, July 27, 2001

Well, I couldn't help myself, I had to post again. 14 hours to go! I'm gonna go to bed now.
22 hours, 52 minutes left until the Blogathon. My site is set up, the webring is up at the top of the page so you can read all the crazy stuff that will happen. I got up early today so that I could sleep well tonight and be rested enough to go the full 24-hours.

Actually, I got up early today because I had a job interview. I think it went well, but I don't want to jinx it. I should know either today or a week from Monday if I got it. And of course, I'll keep y'all informed.

Well, that's about it for right now. I don't want to write too much and run out of stuff to say tomorrow, so I'll talk to you then!

Thursday, July 26, 2001

The last 24-hours, I've been reading Bruce Campbell's new book, If Chins Could Kill - Confessions of a B Movie Actor. It's definitely the best movie-star written Hollywood confessional book I've ever read. Just thought I would share that.

And now for Blogathon news! (I know y'all are just on the edge of your seats, dying to know what's going on.) Just two days left! I'm very excited. I have a plan...I'm gonna put my Blog up on the main page, so when you come to the site, it's the first thing you see. And I'll have a link off to the side for the people who have trouble with it, going to a regular Geocities page with the up-to-date Blog on it. Also, I'm saving up stories and stuff to post on Saturday, so there will probably be no new updates until then. But just to let you know, I have two new stories by Pete (three if he lets me post the one he just got a title for), two Dawson Creek and several Buffy stories from Bri (who's still working towards 50 stories on the site...I think we just might hit that point this weekend!). I've also asked for permission to post a brand new Angel/Fred story by Woo, and perhaps, if y'all are good, I'll write something of my own and post it. There will also be a Web Ring at the top of the page so you can go check out all the other Blogs of people doing the Blogathon. Plus, links to my sponsors and my charity, which is The Portland Rescue Mission.

Whew! That's a lot of stuff! And, to top it all off, I'm not even going to be able to sleep in 'til almost noon like I did last time...I've decided to get up early and go visit my friend Lisa at work.