migrane the size of nantucket.

How big is nantucket? These are the questions we ask ourselves. Well however big it is I'm sure that the pain throbbing in my head is close to size.

It's the weather. Damn you sunshine, oh so emo of me. At least it's still a bit chilly outside. It also snowed on the very tops of the mountains in the east which explode my eyes into joy equivelant to that of a "photorgasm". Though I am way to lazy and pain striken to take pictures at the moment so it will have to wait.

As I depressingly predicted in last nights journal entry it was yet another busy monday. Which isn't over yet, though the remainder shall hopefully fly by. I procrastinated the hell out of getting up and going to work thus making me very unattractive. Did I care? Nah, not so much. Frumpy days are liberating. Unless attractive males walk by, in which case they are regrettable. Luckily I didn't really have the advantage of eye candy today, and I'm not terribly dissapointed. The only male who walked in alone was creepy and he kept frolicing through the lingerie. He had a wedding ring on but oddly enough the only thing that could cross my mind was the thought of him taking all the womens clothes in his hands home and dressing up, tucking back, and staring at himself in a mirror. Then I realized I had no idea why I had such creepy, fucked up thoughts. Boredom perhaps? My third thought was, oh lord I'm just sitting here with a stapler in my hand staring at this man... and my final thought would be, "What the hell was I going to staple?"

Well this really strange incident ended with the man asking me what lingerie I would purchase. Which isn't a comfortable question, not to me at least. I don't even know this man and I'm certainly not going to tell him whats underneath my clothes. "The light blue ones." Damn me and my awesome costumer service skills. This was all followed by ironically and gayily enough a Cher song spilling from the speakers, "Walking in Memphis" to be exact. Yes you guessed it, Mr. Creepy Lingerie Man started to jam. He sang it just like Cher. Creepily like Cher. Exactly like Cher. Which was enough for me to realize I don't get paid nearly enough to tell a creepy guy singing cher all to well that I would buy light blue lingerie.

It's all offical that I can die content. While at Dennys tonight I got seduced by one of those stuffed animal crane games that eat peoples quarters like flys on dung. Well I've tried unsuccessfuly for many of my years to win at the damn game but every single time the bastard defeats me. Tonight, however was different! I was talking to my uncle telling him if this isn't the time that I win I will give up gambling forever. Dramatically speaking. Well he was taunting me with his funny ways telling me which way the crane should fall for victory I faked a left and gracefully with breath held in, captured a purple stuffed elephant. Yeah I know... it was an awesome moment in my life. It tumbled down the shoot and now is boasting on my bed as a trophy. The only thing that could have made this moment better is a slow motion replay of my uncles face and my arm dramatically swinging in the air. It should be televised on ESPN for all to see.

See what strange sleeping hours and a saturday night at the vortex does to you? Also when I came home last night I ate some potatoes. Purple potatoes? Has there always been purple potatoes? When did this come to be and why did I not get the delicious memo? They were BANGIN'! Thought they did give me some really trippy dreams. I could not figure it out, I think it may be a potatoe-beat-cross. Anyway I'm not complaining they were tastey.

Moral of this story? Purple? A strange but lucky color. Also, I've decided my crush for the week is Ewan Mcgregor. Hubba Hubba.