The irony is not lost on me that I HATE hospitals yet work in one.  I spent about ten hours in my place of employment today, though I went for moral support for a family member instead of a paycheck.  Holy suck balls it smells bad there.  And is creepy.  Thankfully it was nothing life-threatening and he was able to have an outpatient procedure sooner than they thought and I should be DONE with being in any medical facility for visitor/patient purposes for a while.  Luckily I brought my hospital badge so was able to save $1.69 on lunch.  Way to go, employee discount!

GUESS WHAT?!?!?!  Bestie might come visit on Saturday.  I am piss-my-pants excited.  Tomorrow my two girl besties from high school will finally return to our blackhole of suck hometown and we’ll get to go out for Savannah’s 21st birthday and have fun girl time and tell secrets and hang out in the Subway parking lot and be super awesome!  And now there’s a possibility that Bestie will get bored at home in Illinois, return to 713, then traverse to visit moi next weekend?!  Woah-uh, awesomeness overload.  Mostly we’re trying to pack as many activities (Stepbrothers reference, obviously) into our last two weeks of friendship as possible.  He would also really like to shoot guns off the back deck with my father since he’s in awe of Iowa’s lax gun laws in comparison to the ones governing our neighbors to the east.

My mother would very much like us (or even apparently just me, should he not be able to come) to attend church on Sunday morning.  Apparently it’s “the rules.”  I will not mention how “the rules” seem to change everytime I come home, depending on what “rules” she’s feeling like making up at the time.  We grew up going to church most Sundays and I’m definitely not opposed to it.  In college, however, sleeping in has trumped going to church about 98% of the time.  I am definitely more religious than the vast majority of my college friends, and this has nothing to do with my Sunday morning worship attendance.  When I come home it’s nice to go and see all the old ladies who watched me grow up, but our pastor who was BOMB-DIGGITY has left and now it’s just weird and people look at me like “Ohh the liberal from Iowa City is back, I wonder if she’s withchild.”  Not to mention if Bestie and I rolled in together, they would presume he and I are dating.  (Mom, you know me telling them “no, we’re not dating” would so not work on those Lutheran women.)  I can handle all of Iowa City and the tri-county area assuming this, but those church ladies are too much to handle.

Apparently there’s a large stink over Adam Lambert’s performance at the AMA’s last night.  I did not see said performance, a quick YouTube search doesn’t provide me with anything interesting.  He kissed a guy and simulated oral sex on one of his back-up dancers and grabbed his crotch a lot.  The first one is so Madonna and Britney, I seem to remember them getting a lot more praise than flack for that.  The third point of contention is straight outta Michael Jackson’s book, and the glove that did a lot of that very self-gropeage just got sold for an ungodly outrageous amount of money.  So really Adam Lambert just needs to get off his knees and those 1,500 angry phone calls to ABC needn’t have been made.  Personally I like the guy for some reason, and I haven’t ever really heard him sing.  His fellatio-centric stage time had to have been more entertaining than Jennifer “I couldn’t act or really sing my way out of my marriage to the most hideous man ever even if I tried” Lopez falling off the back of one of her dancers (which I did find video of online, and homegirl did a pretty good job of making it look like part of the performance.)

If you’re thinking about having kids, you should probably just adopt.  Don’t be selfish and have your own.  There’s plenty of perfectly good babies who need homes.

I’m re-reading A Million Little Pieces because I don’t know, I’m oddly fascinated by drug rehab I guess.  An excellent movie you should watch is 28 Days (with Sandra Bullock, not 28 Days Later with zombies.)  The phrase “chemical dependency” really rolls off the ol’ tongue.  I also really like the word “environmental,” in case you were wondering.

Happy anniversary to Slash & Perla <– luckiest woman alive…

Let’s not talk about the kid and the balloon and his parents who clearly need a psychotic evaluation.  Let’s instead look at some other happenings around the country today and ask ourselves WHY little Falcon and his Wife Swapping famewhore mom and dad were the largest story of the day when an interracial couple was denied a marriage license in Louisiana (it is still 2009, right?  I didn’t get the whole regressing 50 years/ pre Civil Rights era memo…)

I am a journalism major.  I hate journalism.  I am realizing this a bit too late, however, and am close enough to just getting the degree that I’ll never change my major.  The past two years I have met some awesome super interesting people in the field who absolutely love what they do.  These people have more passion for the truth and reporting and sensational story-writing than I’ve probably ever had for anything yet in my 20 years.  That’s not me, though– I’m not naturally inquisitive, I find the media at times to be absolutely repulsive– I’m even becoming jaded on the PR aspect due to me realizing it’s all about money.  I KNOW– it’s America, capitalism, what else did I think it was about??  Maybe I’m just being a Debbie Downer, but I can’t imagine myself enjoying a life where I wake up to go to work every day to promote a company and/or product with the sole image of increasing sales/saving face.  Even non-profits, the field I’ve been leaning towards, are about donations, donations, donations.  I’m not good at asking for money– I think it’s tacky and I don’t handle rejection well.

As I’ve mentioned, my dream job is to bake for people.  Obviously the proper channels to actually pursuing this would be to take some business classes and get really good at baking.  It’ll happen one day,  but now is not the time.  I know I shouldn’t give up on the whole writing thing– as much as I hate journalism, I still hold out hope.  The smell of the New York Times  makes me really excited, and I am able to get satisfcation out of writing a kick-ass lede or getting a really great interview.  Maybe I hate it because college is the first place I wasn’t spoon-fed compliments just for making an effort.  I’ve pretty much accepted that either route I go, mega millionaire dollar signs are probably not in my future (which kinda blows since my only official life goal is to have enough money and no kids so I can fly to Vegas whenever I want…)

Also, how great is Taco Bell?!  The bestie and I went this evening– I’ve only been a handful of times in my life– and I am continually surprised by the dirt-cheap prices yet amazing food.  Blackjack taco box? I never knew that I needed two tacos, a burrito, and crispy CinnaSticks with a soda as big as my thigh all at one time!  (For the record, neither of us ordered this, but we saw it and were both in awe and excited for having found ground zero of America’s obesity epidemic…)

We also watched an episode of Gone Too Far, DJ AM’s documentary about helping addicts (which is ummm EXACTLY the same as Intervention only with a C-list celebrity instead of actual credibility.)  Does anyone else think that show has lost any sort of effectiveness it may have had on the addicts/audience due to the hypocrisy of the situation?!  Right before, MTV had just aired the documentary about Steve-O’s drug addicted past, so as one of my friends pointed out, the channel has basically become a giant how-to on getting high.