The times, they are a changin'...

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As I mentioned previously, my blog is changing. I've always thought that my life was worthy of a book deal; It's incredibly full of ridiculously crazy characters and even crazier stories. And what better place to start chronicling them all? However, in the interest of protecting the innocent and not incriminating the guilty, I'm switching it up to a more anonymous format.

Ok, so I'm just using nicknames like all the other bloggers out there, but we will pretend its an original idea. Just go with it.

Anyways, as I'm sure you all know (actually, I'm not. This is Idaho, after all. But now you will!), today is Mardis Gras. Aka Fat Tuesday. Aka the day of debauchery. I'm not Catholic, but I do know a fair amount about the holiday. And this will be the first time since 2003 that I have not actively celebrated it (I didn't technically celebrate in 2007 either, due to some complications involving JintheB tacos, too much rum, and a date with the Hannah's toilet. But, hey-there's another awesome story!). Am I sad that I'm not hitting the town tonight? Yes and no.

Yes, because it truly is one of the best nights to go out in Boise. It's a Tuesday, you get to wear fun necklaces (none of which I have ever earned in public, just for the record), and you get to watch stupid people doing stupid things on an even more ridiculous level than usual!

And no, because I'm just too damn tired. There is no way that I can pull off the dancing-until-2-taking-a-quick-slumber-back-at-work-by 9 thing anymore! I didn't even make it past 12:30 last year!

No worries, though. Partner-in-Crime (first nickname! Exciting!) and I did pass on the torch last year to our younger friends. Hopefully, they will continue on with the tradition.

Besides, without The Roommate and The Hot One here to cause trouble, its lost some of its appeal.

Case-in-point:
The year was 2004. It was The Roommate and The Hot One's second year out on the town, and my first official one. We came with separate people, but planned on meeting up later on.

Just an FYI-the city of Boise has an awesome downtown scene, with the majority of the hot bars located all in one 3-block radius. On Mardi Gras, they shut the whole street down, essentially turning it into one giant party for people of all ages.

Anyways, it was around the time we were supposed to meet up with everyone. As I turned the corner, I saw an enormous group of guys all huddled together. Jokingly, I told The Artiste that I bet I knew who was in the center of that huddle. Lo and behold, I was right. The Roommate and her friend were the stars of that particular show, and The Hot One was close by.

Another sidenote: The Roommate used to have a wild side. A very wild side. She has since calmed down immensely. Deep down, though, Mardi Gras will always be her holiday!

After the huddle dispersed, the night went on. And into history. It was the night The Roommate tried yet again to seduce The Player, despite The Player's girlfriend being just steps ahead of them as we all walked down the street. It was the night Pita Pit started locking their bathroom door because drunk people forget how to pee right. And it was just the first of many stories yet to come! Unfortunately, there won't be any new ones made tonight. Unless my inner 21-year old decides to make an appearance. You just never know...

My blog is boring.

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After discovering some very funny and very entertaining blogs (I had a very productive day at work!), I decided that my own blog needs some help. And so some changes will be coming soon. I know you are all excited.

Until then, a quick story. My apartment smells like weed. That's right-it smells like pot, reefer, ganja, wacky tobacky, or whatever else you want to call it. Funny thing is-I do not nor have I ever smoked pot in my life. Niether has the roommate (at least not in our apartment). And I'm pretty sure my downstairs neighbors do not partake in the activity either. So where did the smell come from?

My friendly, woodland neighbor, Mr. Skunk.

I can't remember if I mentioned the fact that I basically live in a forest. To date, I've seen two foxes, three deer, numerous raccoons, and most recently, a skunk. And on Saturday night, I was awoken by a very strong, very specific smell. Someone pissed Mr. Skunk off. And now I know that as the smell dissipates, it very strongly resembles the scent of marijuana.

How I know what marijuana smells like is another story completely.

The Vice President almost ruined my day.

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As Diane and I were on our way to renew her driver's license (that's a funny story! You should ask her about it!), we decided to take a detour. A detour to the Special Olympics, to be exact. The figure skating finale was today, and not only was the Vice President (of the United States, just to clarify!) going to present the medals, but so was Michelle Kwan. Apparently, she has always been Diane's idol, so of course we had to go.

After finally finding parking, we hoofed it to the Qwest Arena, only to be yelled at by a not-so-nice cop. Basically, we were five minutes too late, as the arena was on lockdown awaiting his arrival. So instead, we hovered on the edge of Front Street, stared at some handsome Secret Service men (they really know how to wear their pinstriped pants!), and finally, we glimpsed a view of the side of his head! Probably not as exciting as watching some awesome figure skating, but I will take what I can get.

After that, our adventures took us to the courthouse, where I was mistakenly suspected of trying to sneak a utility knife in (it was a Coca-cola key chain, for pete's sake! Apparently, the scanner must prefer Pepsi.). And then I was introduced to the deliciousness that is Blue Sky Bagels. I hate bagels, but apparently I love bagel sandwiches! Anyways, it was an eventful day. And my mother is slowly recovering. And I don't want to go back to work. Ah, but such is life!

Protect your ankles.

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Apparently, the universe is in some sort of war with ankles this week. First, my friend Kevin sprained his ankle playing basketball, and has to have crutches. Second, my poor mother was out for a walk, slipped and fell, and broke her ankle in 3 places. She gets to have surgery in the morning, where 3 screws will now make a home in her body. OUCH! Good thing Steve and Issac are still hanging out in my basement.

In case you were wondering, Steve and Issac are my crutches from when I had knee surgery. They were faithful companions and got me through some rough times. They rode with me when I commandeered an electronic wheelchair at the grocery store and then backed into a tower of paper towels (yes, it really happened). They survived a hijacking by my chemistry class and they were first-hand witnesses to me falling on my face the first day back at work. My mother will surely be in good hands.

As for me, I'm going home to find some athletic tape and my old ankle brace. Just in case.

To perm or not to perm?

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Well, my seven day stretch at work is coming to an end. It hasn't been too bad, although we definitely aren't selling as many Valentine's day sweaters as I thought we would! I definitely have a few favorite customers. And then there are the cranky old ladies who constantly ask if we sell low-rise jeans. The answer is a most definite NO! Let me tell you, I've tried the jeans on and there is maybe one pair that sits below my belly button. And even then, it's less than a quarter inch below, which almost doesn't count. I am impressed with some of the new styles they are coming out with. They definitely have some pieces I will most likely wear. I still need to work with them on making things longer and adding pockets.

In other news, I'm thinking I need a new hairstyle. Problem is, my hair is difficult and doesn't like change. My friend Richard devised a new way of perming hair, and I'm seriously considering it. I can't give away his secrets, but he did it on my roommate's girlfriend's hair, and its super cute. We will see.

I'm working on getting my mom to come to Vegas with Brittany and me to see TAYLOR SWIFT in concert! Its right on her birthday, and she is very picky about her birthday. But who wouldn't want to celebrate it in Vegas?!

Lastly, the Special Olympics are in Boise and I am determined to go watch some events. I have Wednesday and Thursday off, so that's a definite plan. I was thinking about watching floor hockey. I could also be really motivated and drag myself up the mountain to see the skiing events. Either way, its sure to be a good time! If anyone wants to join me, just let me know (Diane, Hillary-this means you!)!

Bremily's latest, greatest idea...

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As Brittany and I (hence the name Bremily) were sitting at Barnes & Noble, discussing extremely random things (penis pinatas, Jessica Simpson's weight problem, etc.), I was struck with a brilliant idea. There is a chance that The Amazing Race will hold a casting call at Karcher Mall, just as they held the Survivor one. If and when that happens, Brittany and I will be in line, waiting to be discovered.

How could this not be a great idea? Brittany and I are everything the other is not. I'm not especially athletic, so she's got running up hills, carrying buckets of water on her shoulders covered. She's not particularly fond of anything academic, so put me in charge of the puzzles and we're good to go. Combine all of that with our sparkling personalities and we're shoo-ins.

I almost described our personalities as spunky, but then had second thoughts, as it didn't conjure up the image I wanted. Which then got me thinking, what exactly does spunky mean and where did the word come from? Amongst our other random conversations, we also started discussing weird words. Spunky was one of them. Poignant was another. And how about permeating? Ok, permeating isn't that weird of a word. If I really took some time, I could probably list many more crazy words, but that idea has since lost some appeal. Besides, it's way past my bedtime! Sweet dreams!

I KILL YOU!

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I find it ironic that when I actually have something to blog about, its the same day that my internet decides to not work. And by not work, I basically mean that the person I was stealing internet from decided to wisen up and install a security key. So I suppose I can't really be that upset about it. So anyways, this post is coming to you via my phone. My apologies for no pictures, but take what you can get!

This past weekend was a good one. We had a 'get-together' at my apartment on Friday and there were good times and good people. I especially had a good time, even though my beer pong skills were not up to par. Some practicing is definitely in order.

Saturday I had to go to work for exactly 40 minutes in order to hit my 44 hour mark. Don't get me started on the ridiculousness that is my 44 hour work week. I will post about that later! The rest of the day, however, was spent napping (my favorite!) and then Guitar Hero-ing with Mike until Brittany got home.

Sunday was super, as The C.O.T. had a Super Bowl party complete with quesadillas, wings, pizza, chips and dip, and fruit pizza (gotta throw something a little healthy into the mix!). I was sad that the Cardinals couldn't pull off a win, but that last catch by the Steelers was amazing and I am just glad that it was a good game.

I'm sure you might be wondering about my blog title. It's simple-sometimes I want to inflict great pain on certain people. On Friday, certain people were Will and Joel who kept beating Richard and me at beer pong. At work, certain people are the kids that rattle the gate when we're closed and then, once I give them A Look, they proceed to drag their slimy hands along my window. And sometimes, certain people are even my close friends (none of whom have access to this lovely blog of mine). Has anyone ever had a lopsided friendship? One where you put in more effort than the other person? I'm usually very tolerant of this (probably because I tend to think the best of people. Also because I secretly hope karma will repay me in the future!), but the last month or so, the tolerance has faded. I'm sick of always being the one to remember birthdays and spend hours and tons of money on the perfect present only to be rewarded with nothing in return. I know this is a trivial issue to be worrying about, but its high on my irritation list at the moment. For once, I would like to be put first. But enough about that. Dwelling on the issue will only lead to more bitterness, and so I'm just going to focus on the good times.

I'm sure I've rambled on enough for all of you. And so I shall conclude. Besides, my thumbs are tired.