I'm back!

So it's been a while. Ok, it's been like 5 friggin months. I just haven't been feelin it, you know? I think grad school is snuffin out my will to do anything on the computer. We won't go into the details, but let's just say I'm not a fan and I cannot wait until I get a real job where my life matters AND I get paid some real money. Remember the good ol' days when we made like $5.50/hour and thought a $1000/month would open all sorts of amazing and fabulous doors?? Yeah, I was a delusional teenager. Now I think I may even qualify to be below the poverty line.

But all my money worries are about to be fixed. I'm getting married to Mr. MoneyBags. Ok, so he's a grad student too. Hmmm...well at least I'll have somebody to eat ramen's with for the rest of our lives! Haha. Money really isn't a big deal, I'm just lookin for somethin to complain about. The good stuff is that me and James, after almost 4 years of on-and-off, are getting hitched this fall! He proposed exactly one month ago today (my mom mentioned it...I wouldn't have remembered--I've moved past those kinda sillness). He was visiting me in Athens for a few weeks before he proposed. And then he left--he told me he was going back to Florida to do some more field work. He really went home to North Carolina to hang out with his family and buy a ring. He got one of our mutual friends to ask me to ride with her to the airport to pick up a friend of hers. I called her and offered to drive to her house, she said no. I mentioned that we could leave an hour later than when she wanted to and still be ok. She said she'd rather wait at the airport than be in a hurry. I just shrugged and figured "It's a free ride and I've got nothing else going on." So she picked me up and instead of getting on the loop, she started driving through campus. She said she knew a short-cut. Once again I figured whatever she wanted to do was cool. But then she took a right down a dead-end road and I started wondering what was going on. She pulled into the forestry school's parking lot and parked. I just looked at her. She said, "I think you need to go find James in the place where ya'll two first met." My jaw just dropped and felt my face go white. "Are you kidding??" I asked. "No." I got out of the car and started to walk off. Then I turned back around to the open door and said, "Oh, you're not staying?" "No." "I guess I should get my purse then. Are you going to the airport??" "No." So I walked to the garden where we first met almost 4 years ago and there he was. I felt like a contestant on the bachelor because I saw him for a really long time before I got to him--I just kept walking and walking and walking. I wanted to run towards him but I told myself to keep cool, act like a grown woman, be smooth. I mean, I was lookin hot in an old t-shirt, ratty tennis shoes, and some capri-workout pants. He could wait. So he popped the question, we called our friend and went and celebrated by eating fried donuts and drinkin Cosmos. Lovely.

Another excitement in my life is that we got a second dog. That's right. We have June, and now we have Cash. And guess what? He's black everywhere except a spot on his chest. He's adorable; I didn't think I could love another dog like I do June and he proved me wrong. He's really laid back, and he has the funniest facial expressions (I guess..).

And that's about all for now.

Some people like porn, I like grocery stores

I love grocery shopping. The thing is, it has to be done on my terms: little to no crowding in the store, a list has to be prepared beforehand, and no one can accompany me if it's to be as pleasurable as possible. I'm pretty efficient when it comes to most things in life. However, I take my time at the grocery store. I think about things for a long time before they find their way into my cart. I re-read my list, mark things off, and fantasize about having a big kitchen and making all sorts of delicious meals. If there's a crowd or, heaven forbid, somebody with me I don't get to fantasize. I have to explain my thoughts to a tag-a-long. I don't like explaining my thoughts (only my feelings). I don't like revealing my OCD-ness to people who I'll see again. I like to be weird, and damnit, I don't want anyone to know how weird I am. So I blog about it on the world wide web. Good thinking. The thing is, I'm always seeing lovey-dovey couples in the grocery store or on tv in the grocery store, and I feel like that's suppose to be an adventure I should want to share with James. It's not James's fault either--he's about as easy going as I could ask for. But I'd rather go by myself than point which direction I want him to push the cart. Or explain why I'm staring at all the different juice choices for 10 minutes (it's hard to find 100% juice that's not loaded down with sugar and costs less than $5). Maybe one day I'll mellow out. If you ever see me in the store with kids you'll know that I'm either a changed woman, or drunk as hell.

Why I think PETA sucks (and why you should, too)

"Founded in 1980, PETA is dedicated to establishing and defending the rights of all animals. PETA operates under the simple principle that animals are not ours to eat, wear, experiment on, or use for entertainment. PETA educates policymakers and the public about animal abuse and promotes kind treatment of animals." (www.peta.org).

That sounds reasonable enough...almost. The whole "animals are not ours to eat wear, experiement on, or use for entertainment" is an act of putting their personal beliefs onto everyone (sort of like Congress passing anti-gay marriage laws). Onto the farmer who grows grain for all of the U.S. Onto the original conservationists--hunters in the early part of last century--who actually understand and spent countless hours managing and obsessing over wildlife; oh, and giving money to conservation programs--Go into Bass Pro Shop and you'll see big signs advertising "The Nature Conservancy," "National Wildlife Federation," etc all over the store. Onto me--a person who eats meat and wears leather boots, a person is who MADLY in love with my dog and with wildlife. Yet I condone hunting and fishing and eating meat and wearing leather and chicken houses (I'm from north Georgia, come on now). According to PETA, I suck.

Don't get me (completely) wrong. PETA has done some good things for animals. I will gladly admit that. Regardless of that fact, I will never EVER EVER become a member of PETA, donate to PETA, or give anyone who is a member of PETA the time of day when it comes to voicing their opinions about animals.

PETA is an group of extremists. The Nazi's were a group of extremists. So was Malcom X (up until the last few weeks of his life....He was assassinated; so was Hitler (in a way). Don't get me wrong--I don't agree with assassination). While the essence of extremist's platforms may have an honorable notion at mind, they go about fulfilling it like a bunch of crazy kindergarteners. While my opinion on what is moderate does not line up with everyone else's ideas on the subject, I think it's more or less in line with the laws of the universe. Moderate, to me, is another word for balanced. A moderate is a person who can see both sides of the fence. Being able to understant both sides makes you wiser. A myopic person is so fueled by their hatred for the other side, they don't bother to try to understand where the other side is coming from. In other words, a white person who does not like a black person simply because the person is black is ignorant. Extremism is ignorance. If you're an extremist, you don't bother trying to understand your opponents. Or, if you do try to find evidence to support your ideals, you look to the extremist on the other side who is equally as ignorant. Two wrongs don't make a right.

There's another side. Some people who support PETA don't really research the organization. These are people who love animals and can't stand the thought of animals being mis-treated. So they automatically think, hmmm, PETA. I'm hoping that's why Carrie Underwood and Charlize Theron are representatives of the organization. Supporting something you haven't researched thoroughly is another form of ignorance, however. I'm not saying I'm innocent--I usually vote for the candidate I like the best based on limited research. But I am aware of my ignorance.

The main thing that chaps my ass about PETA is they represent hunters as people who treat animals cruely. I am sure there are some dumbass rednecks around that do ignorant things and cause un-needed harm to animals. But most of them are out there controlling populations (ever seen a dead deer on the side of the road? Thank a hunter next time you see one for trying to keep those wasted and expensive deaths low), building their love of nature, or passing an appreciation of the wild onto their children. I'm not saying everyone should hunt, and if you don't hunt you suck. I'm saying PETA sucks for thinking hunters are mean, cruel, evil people out to do harm. Hunters don't kill game for mere entertainment. They kill animals for a variety of reasons--because they love the species (it might not make sense if a person doesn't know a hunter but that's that person's problem, not mine), because it gives them a sense of who we were meant to be before we threw ourselves into cubicles and deadlines, it brings them closer to God, to learn more about wildlife, etc etc etc.

If you look at PETA's campaigns, they attempt to sway people using the most-grotesque images possible. Is it terrible that one fox with an open wound on his/her foot didn't get medical treatment and it suffered? Sure. But when you use squeaky-wheel campaigning, you eliminated any notion that there are chicken houses and slaughter houses that treat animals with respect. You make it a divided issue: us versus them. What the hell are you ever going to accomplish with that kind of mentality? Will a die-hard PETA supporter ever respectfully engage in a conversation with an Elk hunter? Doubt that. Will an Elk hunter ever tolerate a die-hard PETA supporter coming onto his/her property and going hunting with him/her? Probably not--the hunter would probably think the PETA supporter would do something extreme to mess up his/her life. And rightly so, probably.

If you have to use such extreme publicity, you're obviously attempting to get extreme reactions. A lot of people, I'm sure, would watch a PETA video, become enraged by what they saw, and start protesting in the name of PETA. But what would those people REALLY know about the issue? Just one side. The squeaky one.

This one's for Boss JA (and Adam)

What do you do with 365 used rubbers?


Melt 'em down and call it a goodyear tire.


So it's suppose to snow here in Georgia (again) today and tomorrow. How exciting is that?! I love the snow, and I can't wait to see June play in it. She'll go wild.

One day I'll start blogging again. Let's call it a writer's block....

Rock it out!

I'm kinda disgusted by this...

So I have an aol email account and check it every day. They have all sorts of thought-provoking news stories, and todays headline disturbed me. A lot. So apparently some young guy went into a mall and killed 8 people before he shot himself. And aol put, as a subtitle, "Note left says 'Now I'll be famous.'" And aol is posting that ALL over the internet. So basically, aol is enabling this killer to become famous.

I don't know anything about the situation because I made the moral dicision not to read about some poor, miguided, deranged, in-need-of-great-mental-help guy who decided to kill people to become famous. I mean, shit, it's the same story, just a different day and a different crazy person and different victims. I'm not gonna sit here and pretend that I know what it feels like to be so depressed that I want to kill people so I'll be noticed because, thankfully, I don't. I am gonna sit here and wonder why we're so intrigued by these stories that we read about them and listen to beauty-queen-like newscasters replay the same story over and over. Why does it seem like young people have gone from being respectful and getting into petty police trouble to reinacting violent movies and video games? I'm not saying that ALL folks my age are terrible, mean, violent, crazy people. And I'm not saying that ALL folks my age 50 years ago were nice, sweet people. It just seems like, proportionally, people are getting crazier and crazier. What's the dill-io?

I'm not suppose to judge people...

but I judge smokers....for the following reasons:

1. It smells bad
2. It's gross
3. Doing so increases the chances of littering by 90% (a statistic I randomly made up but will stand by)
4. It smells bad
5. Some smokers who abide by the "no smoking in restaurants" law choose to smoke RIGHT IN FRONT OF the entrance. Good thinkin.
6. The nasty smell travels long distances and grabs a hold of anything it can (kind of like the Chupacabra)
7. Ex-smokers will attest to the fact that cigarettes really do smell terrible.
8. It's actually not cool.
9. Oh, it causes cancer (for smokers and innocent standbyers alike). Just a minor detail.
10. Air pollution is not something our planet is lacking.
11. Firing up a piece of paper that is filled with toxins, poisons, oh and a little tobacco and inhaling the smoke just seems stupid.
12. Half of one of those SOBs leaves me hackin and gaggin and feelin all woozy. I just ain't cut out for that shit.

The end. I hope I didn't alienate anyone. If you smoke, you should quit. It's not good for you.

PC is BS

So there's what I would call a serial rapist on the prowl here in Athens (woo hoo!!). Maybe you've heard about it? It's been on the national news. The deal is this guy goes downtown on the busy nights (Thursday-Saturday), and offers to give girls a ride home. Two or three drunk girls who did not deserve to be assaulted but acted in a highly-ignorant way were either raped or almost raped. The guy has even become bold enough that he watched a group of girls go into their apartment and then he went and knocked on their door and tried to sweet talk his way in. It's a little creepy, but if you're smart about what you do, hopefully things should work out good for all us women. The point of this blog is not to really to talk about the rapist as much as it is to discuss either the police department or the newspaper (I'm not sure who's guilty). The first girls were attacked back in the beginning of September. Last week (the end of October), a sketch was FINALLY released of the dude. A sketch?? WTF. But I think the cherry that tops the cake is that I have yet to read what race this guy is. No, no, the newspaper reported that the man was wearing a black dress shirt, black pants, and black shoes. But what color is the guys SKIN? From the pencil-sketch, he could be just about ANYTHING. Don't you think skin color is important if you're trying to catch somebody??! Why haven't they reported if he's a white guy or a black guy or a hispanic or etc etc etc? Are the drunk girls just too drunk to remember? Or is political correctness stopping the paper from printing an accurate description?

I'm just completely fed up with minorities calling the race card when it comes to any sort of controversy. The NAACP sucks balls--they're making themselves, and thus their fellow black citizens look ridiculous. They said the charges against Mike Vick were made because he's black. Well guess what? He did it. And not because he's black. But because that's what he wanted to do for whatever reason. Jesse Jackson is a silly man who's mad and wants to pin his anger on someone. Instead, he's adding fuel to the racial-tension fire. Mike Vick could have been my white cousin, and I would have had the exact same feelings bout him killing a dog with his bare hands as I did when I read the news. The people who I know dislike or disapprove of public figures based on that person's attitude/values, not that person's skin shade. I will admit that there are plenty of racist people out there, but not all white people and not all black people are racist. So I think we, as adult Americans, should stop pointing fingers and start accepting responsibility.

La fiesta de blanco trasho

About a month ago my officemates Julie and Ryan threw a white-trash party. It was super badass because it was the same night as the Georgia vs. Alabama game when Georgia WHOOPED SOME ASS!! (go dawgs!) So, obviously, my knee-jerk reaction to white trash was to dress up at Britney Spears (ok, the media really needs to give that girl a break and just leave her the hell alone but that's another story for another day....she is trashy, though, and you gotta respect that). "Britney Spears, Britney Spears," I thought. "Hmmm...obviously I'll have to be pregnant. And slutty looking. What else though?!" Then I had a flash back to Lindsey Lohan. "Crack!" The rest is best told through pictures....

The doo-rag, crack stashed in my pregnant belly, and the long-ass star earrings--all Britney. The OD, all me. Notice that you can't see my press-on nails in this picture because a lot of them had already fallen off.

This is me, posing with my disney-character placemat prize. I got it for being the best pregnant lady at the white trash fiesta! You can see my press-ons a little better.

The lovely hosts of the fiesta.

Me and Hayden, the other pregnant chick. She stopped at a gas station on her way to the party dressed like that and the guy behind the counter was VERY concerned about her buying a 40.

Me and My dream boat. He won air freshners for having the best raccon penis bone (scientifically known as a bacculum) at the party. Can you see my fake, glittery eye-lashes??

Me and Julie. We were drinkin boxed wine and we got BOXED.

My baby is a WOMAN-DOG!

Last night, I was innocently watching "Bring it All or Nothing," a sequal to "Bring it on," (look, I totally dig watchin dance movies even if they're TERRIBLE. Where do you think I get the bulk of my moves?). Anyway, so I was watching the movie with June. And she was doin her thing where she chews on her bone, walks all over the couch, looks out the window, chews on her bone, demands attention, chews on her bone, sits and stares at me, etc etc. That's when I noticed little red blotches all over the couch. My first thought was, "She's starting her period!!!" So I looked at her coo-coo and it didn't really seem different or have other forms of evidence. But when I wiped it with a paper towel, the evidence was obvious. My baby is in heat! That means one day she'll have puppies!! YAY!! She's a year and two months old today, so I was startin to think she wasn't gonna be able to have puppies. Anyway, just like any other female, she has been demonstrating typical pms behaviors. She's been kinda snotty, slightly demanding, eating a lot, having weird poops, and on occasion......she's been kinda bitchy. Check the picture out below where she's "playing" with Duffy (my friend Julie's dog):

Total pms, right???

This is her a few weeks ago, prior to the UGA vs. Ole Miss game. We've got our game faces on.

Dogs, Purses, and Pee

So the other night I held my first dinner party a la trailero nuevo. It was a "Potluck Pizza" themed event where everyone brought a favorite pizza topping. I made dough from scratch and everybody got their own little ball to make a personal pizza. It was a good time. Me and my new friend Julie split a bottle of Peaches&Cream flavored Mad Dog. GHETTO. So obviously we got drunk. Julie and her boyfriend Ryan brought over one of their dogs (Duffy) and he played with June like they were both completely insane. Towards the end of the evening, Ryan mentioned that June was sitting at the door. I said, "Nah, she's just cryin wolf again. She does that a lot." About two minutes later Ryan said, "Your dog is peeing on your purse." I looked at him and said, "No she's not, quit messin around." And he said, "No, she really is." And everyone turned to see June COMPLETELY squatting on my purse and just peein away. We all started laughing our asses off. But then Duffy, being a boy dog, came along and re-marked my purse with his pee.

Do you judge me because I used my purse the next day?

Oh, you remember how I use to be a vegetarian? Yeah, well I'm not anymore. Cool, huh?

Correction

I got my statement from State Farm and they turned out to be the cheaper choice...my agent made a little calculation error and sent me a hand-written note explaining it. How badass is that?

Have you tried this Pandora's box thing on the internet? It's like a streaming radio. I love it! How badass is that?

So Jelena told me about this half-marathon they're having where we grew up (literally) in March. And guess what?!? We're gonna do it!! I started trainin for it yesterday. I'm pretty pumped...I'm just gonna try my hardest to avoid gettin injured. We'll see.

And that's all the excitement I have to share....

Childrens Do Learn

Recently I've been watching a lot of Jon Stewart's Daily Show and The Colbert Report. They crack my shit up.

Anyways, what the hell is up with people not apologizing. Now, I don't mean this on a personal level. If I want an apology from a friend/lover/sibling/etc I'll beat it out of them if they won't give it to me willingly. I mean in the business world. I recently got insurance for my BADASS trailer. I went with State Farm even though they'll cost me an extra $30 a year (a lot for a grad student) compared to Farm Bureau. You wanna know why? Because when I initially called Farm Bureau, they said they'd call me right back. But they never did. So the next day I called and told the receptionist what happened. No apology. The agent she connected me to heard the same story from me (it was told VERY politely). Once again, no apology, no empathy. Nada. Granted, neither one of them were responsible for calling me back. However, I was a potential customer and they are representives of the company I was seeking a service from. So guess what? I now pay extra money to State Farm because the lady who helped me there was amazingly nice. Think about it. Which company will be better to deal with if my trailer gets broken into, swept away by a flood, blown over by a tornado? The folks who don't call me back or the ones who send me a hand-written letter? The decision is yours.

Not really, though, because I already made it.

Going postal

So I may not be a genius. And I know I'm not a complete dumbass. You know, I'm one of those inbetweeners. However, every time I walk into any kind of mailing service building (post office, ups, etc etc) I either turn into a dumbass, or every employee of those companies is required to wear a Chandler-style "Could you BE any more dumber" expression. I think I'm just gonna have to buy some packing supplies, pack my own shit, and drop it off in the middle of the night with a note attached asking to find my little package a good home.

One for Jelena...

Who put the "ho" in homemaker? Your mom! That's who.

-2007 Bad Girl's Calendar

Gobi, Everest, Costa Rica...oh my!

Once again this post will slightly revolve around Boss. You feel special, don'tchya little buddy? Anyway, he keeps talkin bout wanting to have more adventures. We had some nice conversations when he was here and concluded that life is all about experiences, not the nitty gritty day to day bullshit. And then I got an email from an awesome chick I know who just nailed it right on the head, so I wanted to share how she put it (she's talkin bout her 4 months on the AT):

Every Spring and Fall when the weather starts to turn and you can feel it in the air, this feeling comes over me. It's hard to describe, but its something akin to the feeling I get when I hear the phrase "Go West young man!" It's like something is calling my name and I can't quite figure out what it is or what its saying, but its damn destracting. And then I realize...its the woods...its freedom from things that really don't matter...its focusing on what you're going to eat, where you're going to sleep, whether or not it will rain, and putting one foot in front of the other...its getting creative about solving problems (as in 25 people learning to sleep crammed into a shelter meant for 8 in order to avoid the blinding snow storm so that everyone has to flip over and the same time in order to have enough room)...its facing non-negotiable circumstances that cannot be avoided or manipulated-no excuses, just deal with it...its finding the silver lining in a month of solid rain because the bugs don't come out as much...its rejoicing at the sight of all you can eat buffets that wouldn't have even crossed my mind before. It's a lot of things and I get teary eyed writing this. All I can say is its by far the best and most fulfilling experience I have ever had.

Diahrrea and ticks

Boss visited this past weekend and he asked me a serious question. "Nev, is the blog dead?" No, no. The blog isn't dead. I just haven't been feeling it lately.

There are so many entertainin stories I have to blog about but today I'll stick with the most recent one. We got back to the trailer yesterday and were greeted by the smell of poop. Poor June had diahrrea all over her kennel and continued to have it for another few hours after we got home. There was shit everywhere. Nasty, nasty, nasty. A little bit later she started acting like she felt better so we let her sleep in the bed. Bad idea. But it's not what you think. She had gone dove hunting with James this weekend and I guess sometime during her excursion she ran into a colony of seed ticks. Yeah, I woke up this morning pulling tiny ticks off of me. And then we checked the bed and they were everywhere. EWW, how gross is that??! I'm still itching.

If you're lookin for a laugh, I thought this was entertainin: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tXRUbJ87abc It's titled "Miss South Carolina vs. Bush" I'd like to go ahead and congratulate myself for not voting for ol' GW.

The Latest Buzz

Ok, so I don't normally do surveys because they squish my creativity into answering questions (I like to ask, not answer, questions). But I read this on Marianne's blog and liked it, so here it goes:

1: You and Jesus go out to dinner - who pays?


I'd cook.

2. You suddenly have to flee the country and adopt a new name..what would it be?

Anastasia Beaverhousen

3. Pick one state in the U.S. to get rid of permanently?

I'll go with Florida.

4. You wake up as the opposite gender. What's the one thing you wanna do?

Move my stuff while I'm big and buff. Moving sucks.

5. Luke Skywalker or Han Solo?

I had a crush on Luke Skywalker when I was a little kid.

6. Toy you always wanted but never got as a child?

No idea.

7. What was the worst thing you ever ate?

I'm a picky eater. I guess cucumbers and olives are the absolute worst. Jelena's the one in the family who gets dared to eat the nastiest concoctions you've ever heard of. I steer (is that spelled right? Steer? It looks funny.) clear of that.

8.The last time you laughed until your stomach hurt?

The Daily Show the other night when John Oliver was coming up with better excuses for why a Florida congressman offered an undercover cop $20 so the congressman could give the cop a blow job.

9. What is the last movie you saw that actually scared you?

I don't like scary movies anymore. I used to love them. Now they're disgusting. I guess An Inconvenient Truth is disturbing in its own way.

10. Stupidest thing you've ever said out loud?

Uh. Today? Last Saturday when we were at the lake I saw what I thought was a midget water skiing. Turned out to be somebody knee-boarding.

11. You're sentenced to death and its the morning of your execution: what do you want to eat?

Pizza, beer, those chewy sour peach rings, a fruit plate, bread and butter, tomato soup, any and all desserts that currently exist, cranberry juice, and hemlock

12. What's something that most people do that you've never done?

Read Harry Potter.

13. Before you die you want to go to...?

Mount Kilamangaro

14. What's the last thing you ate?

Rice and a spring roll (like 3 minutes ago)


15. A wild animal you'd like to have as a pet?

A raccoon to help with the dishes. Or a monkey.


16. A drug you'll never try?


Pretty much all of them (well, except for weed)

17. If you were an animal, what would you be?


A bird

18. If you had to marry someone you knew at the age of 12, who would it have been?

Rebecca

19. What's something a lot of people don't know about you?

I'm actually kind of scared of escalators. A thing since childhood. Oh, and I'm a little claustrophobic too. And I have my nose pierced.

20. First celebrity crush?

I think I have to agree with Marianne. I had a crush on Ricky Schroeder when he played Newt on Lonesome Dove. I wanted to ride horses with him.

21. What's a weapon to suit your personality, habits and abilities?

My dazzling intellect. I don't know--medieval torture?

22. Best flavor of runts?

Cherries

23. Favorite breakfast bread style (pancakes, waffles, toast etc...).

Crossiant


24. Favorite movie?

I just can't do that. I can't pick one.


25. Worst way to die?

By a dumbass terrorist. Friggin waste. Like God really wants us to kill each other. Yeah, that sounds like the golden ticket.


26. Grossest injury you've ever seen?

Um...I can't think of any.

27. The worst injury you've ever had?

*knock on wood* I can't remember any. Right now's pretty bad. I went to boot camp with Jelena. I can't hardly make it up and down stairs.

28. Favorite thing about Thanksgiving?

Shootin me a turkey! Haha, just kidding. It sure as hell isn't the parades. We have a small family so it's not like I see relatives I don't see any other time at Thanksgiving.

29. Sport you hate the most?

Speed food eating. Not really a sport, anyway.


30. What state in the US do you want to visit?

All 16 or 17 I haven't yet (the western ones)

31. What's something you think would be sweet to know everything about?

Hmmmmm. I don't think I could give the best answer to that right now. I should get older first.

32. Favorite Actor/Actress?

Sandra Bullock, Ashley Judd, Meryl Streep...
Steve Zahn, Morgan Freeman, Will Smith, I'm drawin blanks.


33. What's one phrase you absolutely detest?

Wicked! and That's Hot!


34. What makes an awesome party?

Yours truly.


35. What's your favorite material possession?

June.


36. What's something that most consider an insult but you enjoy having said about you?

I really enjoy being called a whore.

37. Favorite kind of dog(s)?

Mine. Yours. Ours.

38. Favorite carnival food?

The carnies. And cotton candy.

39. Morning or night person?

Morning.

40. What's the worst part about taking the bus?


I rode the bus in middle school/part of high school. I'm about 90% sure our driver was a pedophile. Oh, and he yelled at us pretty much every day and threatened to take us back to school. I always sat really quietly so I didn't know what people did to piss him off. I think he just had 32 mental issues and then some.

41. Weirdest Ebay purchase?

I can't figure that shit out so the anwser would be none.


42. Who's your man/woman crush?

I ain't a playa, I just crush a lot. A crush? No. I don't have one. They remind me of unrequited love and this bitch don't play that game.

43. Its Saturday at 3am.?

No, it's Friday at 6:32 pm.

44. Who's your favorite friend to go out with?

It really depends on what kind of mood folks are in. I love all my friends.

45. Worst job you've ever had?

"Hi, my name is Nevena and I'm a sophomore at the University of Georgia. I'm calling tonite on behalf of the UGA Fund." Yes, I was a telemarketer for 2 months.

46. What's something your friends make fun of you for?

Saying stupid stuff a lot. Being judgemental.

47. Favorite cereal?

Honey Nut Cheerios.

48. Book you could read repeatedly?

I like Noah's Arc a lot. It's a picture book, though.

49. What's the meanest thing you've ever done?

Oh goodness. I think the thing that haunts me is anonymously making fun of a girl I didn't even know.

50. If you were drafted into a war, would you survive?

I'm a female. They'd either make me shove needles into folk's butt or stick me behind a desk. I've been known to do both before so I'm guessin I would. Or a dumbass terrorist might get me.

(I know women are involved in conflict and that's all nice and good. I support them. I'm guessing women would not be drafted into conflict-type positions).

I'm not that innocent

Dear Fans,

I didn't just pick my nose. I don't know where this booger on my finger came from.

Yours truly,
-NpC





It's just that easy.

June says, "Deadbeat mom's are fun!"

Oh, the sweet careless lazy days of summer are coming to an end. It's sad, but it's true. No more sleeping in till 7:15 am, laying around the allusively-exciting travel trailer all day. No more dining at the Cow Palace (a loss I'm sure never to recover from). I'm leaving the "wonderful" state of Florida on Friday. While it might not be the thrill of my life, I've had a nice, relaxing time down here.

You know something though, I'm surprised anyone ever dies here. There's a Walgreens or CVS on EVERY FRIGGIN CORNER in town. They're like the Starbucks of Seattle but in Florida and not Starbucks. If I had a pogo stick (Christmas hint), I could probably hop from the roof of one to another without hitting the ground. Or if I had stilts, I could just stride from one to the other. I'm tellin you, the blue haired snowbirds run this joint.

Me and June are down like four flat tires now. We're thick as thieves. She's chewin on a bone right now. If I was on the other computer (yep, there are two computers in here and one easy-bake-oven size oven), I'd upload or download or sideload some pictures of her. Anyway, I don't know how I'm gonna handle being separated from her for 2 weeks. I know it's melodramatic, but for a long time it's been just me and her chilling (well, and James too since I got off the trail). We've been through a lot together. Go to my shutterfly website and when you see her pictures you'll understand why I'm so infatuated with her: nevena.shutterfly.com

"The two most important words in the English language, he repeated in his mind, were patience and hope."

Yes, loyal readers, that is a quote from Dirk Pitt--Clive Cussler's hero. Your patience and hope has brought you back to me. Let's all take a moment to compose ourselves. The excitement is almost unbearable.

So I've been off the trail for a few weeks now. It's just that I haven't really felt inspired to write anything. It was weird going from solitude to cell phone service in the space of a car drive back to civilization. Today has been deemed "catch up on emails, letters, facebook, and myspace but NOT bills day." So here I am.

But Nevena, I thought you were gonna be gone all summer. Um, sorry, change of plans. I hiked 163 miles from Springer Mountain, Georgia to Fontana Dam, North Carolina. A good portion of that was solo. But some of it wasn't. I even met some cool folks on the trail that I hiked with and/or had the same itinerary and hung out with in shelters at night. I really had an awesome time. June had to get off the trail in Franklin, NC (about 55 miles south of Fontana) because she was showing 4 ribs, and I didn't want to solo hike all summer. By the first week in, I was pretty much set on getting off the trail at Fontana. So here I am. TA DA!!

A few highlites from the trail:

* June almost DIED. We ran into not one, but TWO timber rattlers within the span of 50 feet. And she was lucky enough to run by the first one TWICE. Talk about puckering.

* One day we hiked 19.3 miles. That was the day we climbed Mt. Albert. Son of a bitch. We hiked it the second half of the day with a guy we met, David. That was good because about 10 minutes into the second half, a mother of a storm let hell drench us. It lightninged all around us, hail pockmarked our raingear, and I quiet frankly came awfully close to peeing my pants.

* Another day it was just me and June. That was the day we reached the GA/NC boarder. I was really excited because my guide book didn't mention that Mt. Everest had a cousin in those parts. That was another son of a bitch mountain (there were about 4 total). Anyway, there we are, huffin and puffin our way up the mountain when we ran into a lady SOBO'd (south bounding) who we had stayed with at a shelter a few nights before (she hiked from road to road and then got a ride and hiked another section from road to road). She was with a barrel-chested man who looked slightly red. I was surprised to see her since I'd guess she was in her mid-sixties and I didn't realize she'd be heading south. Anyway, so there we were, halfway up that hell of a hill and I ran into them. The man goes, "Hi, I'm Ron Blank. Have you heard of me?" Being oxygen deprived and not-impressed with famous people my first thought was, "Are you the man who shot Hogzilla??" I had read the article the day before I got on the trail about the second Hogzilla-type hog who had gotten shot in Alabama so....No, he was not the man who shot Hogzilla. He was well-known along that part of the trail for bein hiker-friendly and owning a hotel in Franklin. I stayed at that hotel a few nights later. Can we say seedy? Oh, by the way, I didn't actually verbalize the "did you shoot hogzilla" part. I just thought it.

* I made some friends who I'm still in touch with.

* I learned a shit ton about hiking and camping in general.

* We camped on top of Blood Mountain one night with a group of folks. It was one of the more memorable nights--we sat on top of the boulders and cooked dinner and watched the sun set and then we played some cards.

* I re-newed my faith in humanity.

* I totally busted it in front of a group of 15 boyscouts.

So that's that.

Now I'm down in good ol' Florida. Yup, YEEHAW. Awesome, awesome. School starts in a few weeks. And that's about it.

I hope that left you satisfied.