furbish is awesome, really awesome. alone travelling is not.

so i travelled by car to raleigh to the mecca known as furbish.

it was business and party (like a mullet). 

 

i have decided that i am a terrible traveller.

i get all panicky and scared of life.

basically it's like everything in the universe that would NEVER happen i am convinced will happen.

such as..

 

raped at a truck stop by an alien with a knife for a peen.

stabbed and raped at the same time (more efficient for the alien, aliens are always smarter than us)

 

(fairly certain i could take this alien. spaghetti arms)

 

and also... 

seeing a deer in the middle of the road with red eyes and he is just looking at me

but then my car passes through it and it's actually a ghost deer.

 

with a knifedick.

 

like that.

 

then i get sad like, why am i alone?

why did no one want to come with me on this trip?

i am probably going to die and god only wants it to be me.

he saved everyone so that i could die.

i'm like jesus, i am dying for all of you.

 

but then i don't die.

i just have 9000 panic attacks in the course of 24 hours.

 

worst traveller ever.

 

i am one of those people that dreams of time alone and then once i am alone i have 40,000 panic attacks.

 

it sucks (knife)dicks.

 

anyway..

i went to furbish to deliver a painting for to sell at furbish.

but also to meet lady meares and her sidekicks nick olsen and keila the great.

 

they are good people. 

i liked everyone very much.

 

 

 

furbish is amazing in real life.

pictures don't do it justice.

i wanted everything in that store.

and the best part..

the REALLY best part?

the prices are right.

 

furb trays.

 

pink sofa.

 

more things...

 

ikat and dots together happily..

 

patterns all good together.

 

minty greens making out..

 

i really died for these (there were 2).

and i don't give a donkey about chevron.

in person they are just so pleasing.

 

 

this cute girl was there wearing a cute necklace...

she made it.

 

she paired that pretty blue with red like a smart person.

 

 

 

 

 

 

everyone needs to go there and shop.

all the time.

 

i was a boring party guest.  

i had good intentions of robot dancing and nick olsen humping

but instead i was half asleep in a chair cuddling up against ab chao.  

another good girl.

tiny and cute.

 

i left early to go to bed.

how lame am i?

the lamest.

i deserved to be poked with knifedicks.

 

 

once back a the hotel 

the haunting began...

 

 

i got on the computer to upload some of the pics i took..

(this is where creepy music would play in the re-enactment starring a beautiful princess as myself)

when i noticed a smell.

 

 it smelled like a man in the worst way.

greasy, oily, dirty, scalp smell.

do you know it?

have you ever been on a bus behind someone who hadn't had a bath ever?

i couldn't place where it came from..

until i laid down on the pillow....

 

 

 

 

 

 but that wasn't the only smell present. 

there were also strong hints of mold and moldy feet (dead feet?).

unfortunately after literally an hour of CSI-type research i failed to find the source of this moldy foot odor..

i chalked it up to ghost behavior...

 

 i washed my face and tried to forget it.

focus on a good nights sleep.

i played some iphone games while cozy in my (stinky) bed..

then started to doze..

 

yet as soon as i closed my eyes to sleep for good i started to straight up hallucinate.

not even kidding.

but not hallucinate fun things like chocolate rivers or vampire sex...

nope.

things like children dangling from moving cars while their little heads skimmed the pavement at 100 mph.

yeah..

awesome!!!!!!!

monster elves with gold faces and sinister smiles.

and no, these were not things i was voluntarily thinking about..

no.

i was halucinating.

like acid hallucinating.

 

 

it was the least amount of fun a person could have.

 

i started to text mike..

 

here is a transcript from our texts that night..

 

me: something's not right.

 

mike: what is it?

 

me: hallucinating.

 

mike: what? no you're not.

 

me: YES I AM.

little girls in ballet costumes dangling out of cars and dying...

gold faced monsters and shit!!

 

mike: try to relax.

 

me: i'm trying to sleep but everytime i close my eyes i see the scariest shit in the world.

 

mike: it's ok.

you're just stressed and tired.

have you had a lot to drink?

 

me: sadly, no.

 

me: i am going to die tonight i think.

 

me:  it stinks in here.

 

mike: turn on the tv.

 

me: what if i don't sleep at all tonight and then i can't leave tomorrow and i am stuck here in this haunted hotel room bc i am too tired to drive?

 

mike: you won't be. it's not haunted. 

 

me: you don't know nuthin bout nuthin slut!  (i didn't say that)

 

me: i think this is a panic attack.  i have googled the symptoms and i am having all of the symptoms.

my skin is on fire.

 

mike: i have driven on no sleep, you can do it if you have to.

 

me: shut up.  

 

me: i am afraid i am going to kill everyone in this hotel.

 

mike: turn on the tv.

 

me: it's on.

 

mike: watch it until you fall asleep.

 

me: ok.

 

at this point i try and understand 'who's line is it anyway' and why after nearly 10 years of improv under my belt  i still go.."how did they come up with that???!!!"

 

around 3:00 am i fall asleep on my back

(I NEVER FALL ASLEEP ON MY BACK- IT'S THE WORK OF THE DEVIL!)

and wake up at 8:24 am.

pack my shit up.

take 2 shits.

go get a pumpkin spice latte (it's fall fuckers and i'm not dead!) and leave.

i arrive safely back home at 2:30 pm.

 

mostly not dead.

 

with a better understanding of myself as a traveller.

 

i am the worst.

 

next time i will be heavily drugged.

 

 

 

 

dear blogfest 2011

it is 4:39- oops make that 4:40 PM on a wednesday and i am on my second glass of shiraz.

what's that mean?

it means i'm awesome.

 

what's my point?

let me break it down...

blogfest 2011 is approaching and i keep getting tweets telling me there are only, like, 5 spaces left.

five spaces left?!?!?!

what the FFFF, is justin beaver going to be there?!?!!!!

 

well blogfest people, i totally want to go!!

b/c

 a.) my new BF newell turner will be there (way better than beaver)

b.) this shit is happening: and i really wanna hear this.

 

and 

c. a lot of really really cool people that i totes wanna hump respect will be there...

 

but once again i am light in the wallet.

farttts!!!

it's only 100 dollars and that's not a lot of money to some people and i could probably swing it in a week or so,

but right now that may as well be 1 million dollars.

but if you could "reserve" a space for me that would be awesome.

 

need proof that i am worth a free reservation?

exhibit a:

i have a crown.

that = importance.

 

exhibit b:

i have cool "friends".

 

exhibit c:

i grew that. 

 

exhibit d (for drunk):

no explanation necessary i feel.

 

ok then.

lemme know.

 

charity farts,

***my friend susie just informed me that registration is full.  all we can do is be put on a waiting list.

shitbutts.