I started this May 4, and that's all I really have to say.
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I can't believe it, I had another dream trying to sex up my Snookie last night (5/4/08)! That makes 2 in the course of about 5 days. Now I will probably never dream of him again. This time he was in a hospital (knocks on wood, hope he doesn't EVER go in one again), and I guess I was a nurse (or just lying about it), because I was pushing him in a wheelchair (there didn't seem to be anything wrong with him), and I brought him to this room with a bed. As soon as I shut the door, Ben was on the bed and I straddled him. I also told him that if I didn't have him at that second, I was going to scream. I'm getting all hot and bothered just thinking about it.

After that, the dream changed to something weird. I was in a cafeteria and sat down with adults, like old people, I think they were politicians or something. One of them must have told some embarrassing joke, because I covered my eyes, then they were telling me to uncover them, but when I did, I was with two teenage girls. Apparently I'd gone back to school, it must have been private because we were wearing uniforms. I was telling them how I wish I had gone to boarding school, and one of them said, "No, not boarding school!" Then we were walking up a stairwell and I kept telling them that it doesn't matter what you learn in school, it's all about the people you know, the connections you can make. Just then, we passed some girl and her father, who was proud of her daughter, I think she was accepted to something, but I knew it wasn't for her grades. For some reason I knew she wasn't a good student. Then I told my two dream friends that I didn't trust whatever she'd gotten accepted to, but that she had to know someone and that was the most important thing. When we got to class, I couldn't find my books, they were in the desk of another student (one from my mother's first grade class, the clingy one I mentioned before), not much was made of it. Then the teacher started to talk about something, then she interrupted herself and started to talk about that horse they had to put down at the Kentucky Derby, and I said that it was my horse. It seems my dad had bought it for me and I was down, but not depressed about it, and that I had more horses at home. At this time in the dream I think I somewhat consciously realized that I was a fictional character I had invented years ago named Daphne. I never did finish the story, basically she starts out as a spoiled "daddy's girl" (something I never was), then I shifted that role to the younger sister and Daphne felt that her father had something against her. Like I said, I never finished it, but the fact that I believe I dreamed a bit of her is so crazy, especially since it's been a long time since I've given that any thought. I still wish that the beginning part of the dream had been longer: Me sexing up my Snookie!

Launchcast is being lame, again. Now that I've become a "Rating Master" (rated over 10,000 songs, artists, and albums; NBD, I've been on it since 2002, I'm surprised it took this long), it will only let me listen to it for barely one day a month. But I tried logging into my other Yahoo account, and it said the same thing. I don't know what that's all about. I guess it monitors usage through the ISP address and not user name. I should have known that seeing how anyone could get dozens of accounts.

The NFL off-season is the worst; I miss my Snookie, I miss football in general (NFL and NCAA) There's very little news, and anything you hear about will be blown out of proportion out of desperation. Except anything on those cheating ass losers that I've hated way before it came into fashion, any negative attention on them should be mentioned first on everybody's local news. Now it seems that they've been practicing players on Injured Reserve (which is a no-no). Unfortunately, our pussy ass bitch of a commissioner said even if the story can be confirmed (which it already has been, by an ex-player), he won't seek further punishment. I hate Roger Goodell, I really do. I may hate him more than NE quarterback and the hooded prick. Well, he might be 1c. Either he is the most incompetent person in sports or the Kraft family has photos of him with underage male prostitutes, because something is just not right. I understand that New England is the marquee team that you overexpose and it shocks you that the team that you chose to make the face of your sport cheated, but if I were running the NFL, that would make me bring the hammer down on them harder than if it was some lame-ass team like Detroit. You have to make an example out of them. I still think that if it was a team like Detroit or Arizona, Goodell would have banned the entire coaching staff from the game entirely, fined and put the owners/GM/other personnel on like 5 year probation.

At approximately 9:15 pm, May 28, 2008, I realized that it had been 10 years to the day since the passing of Phil Hartman. It was so weird. I was on Wikipedia earlier that day, and the featured article for that day was the retired Simpson's character Troy McClure. I didn't click on it until much later in the day, like around 8:something. Then I clicked on Phil's page, then I clicked on the Saturday Night Live page, and that's when it hit me. At first I was like, "the 10-year anniversary is coming up soon", but I couldn't remember if it was the day before or the day after, then I realized it was that day. I lost it, I started crying and everything. I still remember how I found out about it: My room was a mess, and I was banned from watching television until I cleaned it up. This didn't really bother me, because I had books everywhere, so I figured I was just going to read all summer. Plus, if I was really desperate, I would just call Michael (whose birthday was May 26, happy belated to him where ever the hell he is), and he would tell me some stuff that was going on. Any road, when the story broke, my mother burst into my room and she told me to go in her room and watch, because she had Entertainment Tonight on. In the middle of letting this terrible news set in, my mother says, "See, if you cleaned your room, you could have watched this in there." At the time, I felt this remark to be callous, and a bit cold. I was so angry with her that she said that. I know that I didn't know Phil Hartman, but I was 13 and had adored him since I was 8. I can't remember, and I can't really look it up right now, but I used to call him my old man, because I was always searching for that father figure, and I just got attached to him when I was younger. I was absolutely devastated, and that was the remark I got. I think at the time the only person I was angrier at than my mother was, of course, Phil's wife. Even though it took some years to stop being so angry was that I felt worse for their children than anything, and that really put it into perspective for me. It's bad enough their father died, but it was a result of their mother being a drug-addicted, paranoid, jealous psychopath, and she shot Phil and herself.

I can't wait for June 9 to get here, I'm even more excited for June 12. June 9 (which is a MONDAY, tch) is the last day of school! Hopefully I'll have the entire class cleaned up by then. I've taken down two walls full of the students' stuff and the numbers on the wall. I can't do anything today (Thursday, May 29, 2008) because we have to leave early (not that I'm complaining about that). Tomorrow, my mother has a bunch of meetings with some of the parents of the students who are "Below Grade Level", so maybe I can just be in the background doing that. I want to get the alphabet down, by then. On June 12 is when my parents go to Alabama. Can't wait. I just remembered I have to make an example card for one of the students tonight because her birthday is tomorrow (May 30), and she is insufferable! She's been talking about her birthday coming up forever it seems like. I know kids are excited about their birthdays, but I've been her for 2 months and have been through I think 4 other ones, and NONE of them have been as bad as her. Her problem is that she is the smartest one in the class, but she wasn't in my mother's class last year, and her teacher was an incompetent fool (he said that all his kids were smart when they had to split the classes last year, and most of them were below or barely on Grade Level), but since she really is smart and her parents actually do stuff and her parents and the teacher last year treated her like God's gift, so she still has a swelled head.

I really shouldn't even care about stuff like this, I should be having my own problems and this school stuff shouldn't be it. The huge silver lining is that I can put this on my resumé as volunteer work, which will cover the two years between Ashley Stewart and whatever the hell I do next. It's really true, I mean, for the past two years I've done all my mother's reports and stuff, made a bunch of crap for the children to color (usually it has something to do with what they're reading) and I've made up math sheets, had to go on field trips, did cupcakes, decorated the classroom, and I'm sure countless other things (I'd make a great stay-at-home mom, it's just the having kids thing that bothers me). I just have to remember to update my resumé. Administrative Assistant would be okay, but I would be perfectly fine with something like Mail Room Clerk (which doesn't sound too bad, unless you have to deal with a bunch of (stupid) people). I've screwed myself so bad by not getting the hell out of here when I should have, and with a recession coming up, oy vey.

OMG! Smoke was SO FLIPPING CLOSE!!! He was leading with less than three laps to go and he blew a tire! I was so pissed off!

Season finale of Lost(bestshowever) is on tonight. It goes 9-11, and I have the VCR set up, but I really want to watch it. I may stay up and just suffer tomorrow.

It's time for me to wrap this up, but I have to post a picture of my Snookie. I know this has been a long time coming, but this photo is the one from his Super Bowl commercial. He's singing the Piña Colada song (badly), and it's really cute. It's the screen-cap right before the janitor straight carries him.

That's right after the janitor said, "I loved that song." Then the janitor said, "Till you ruined it!" Then this happened...

Oh, my poor Snookie! Seriously, I don't know why he has so many things featuring him trying to sing when can't. I love him anyway. Oh, and since May 4, I don't think I've dreamt of him since, which really sucks.

I'm phasing.