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I hate Friday the 13th. I’ve never been much of a superstitious person until a few years ago. Now, I’m absolutely terrified of these blasted Fridays. The entire day I worry and feel panicky that my world is going to come crashing down around me, once again.

It was Friday the 13th when I found out my boyfriend at the time was cheating on me.

Since then many things in my life have changed. I’ve finally gotten to the point where I don’t feel that I drove him to it. I don’t hear his name and instantly feel like my heart has been ripped out of my chest and thrown into a blender. I’m at the point where I (gasp!) trust men again. But, each time the calendar reads Friday the 13th I feel sick inside. Now that feeling only lasts one day, and not every day.

Typically I ignore the day altogether and hibernate, but not this year. It so happen happens today is not just the day of impending gloom, but also Ben’s birthday. So instead of feeling sorry for myself, I’m going to focus on my rockstar brother, who despite all the shit i give him, is the best brother a girl could ask for.

Happy Birthday Bennyboy!

A friend and I drove to Delta yesterday for the demolition derby extravaganza. Sadly, Country Carl didn’t take part like he did in last year’s derby. But at least he got to sit with us this year, which gave him ample opportunity to explain all things derby to my friend.

My favorite part of the evening was not timing the drive home so perfectly we saw six different small town firework shows; it also wasn’t the margarita snow cones I’ve so brilliantly made my summer drink; nor was it sneaking into the Delta bar when no family members were in sight; my favorite part wasn’t finding cinnamon flavored Sun Chips.

Can you guess what my favorite part was:Yes, the program with the wrong year was the highlight of the trip!

earth day was on sunday, so i did my part. i ate treats. a friend of mine (who shall remain nameless because i hate him today) lives in a neighborhood where the kids got together and sold plates of goodies in order to raise money for earth day. it was very cute and i’m never going to say no to a good brownie, unless it came off willie nelson’s tour bus.

i did, however, make sure my friend ate one first, just in case the homemade treats killed him. what if they were baked with arsenic in order to decrease the population? in theory the earth’s natural resources would last longer, right?

yeah, i’m fully aware of my insanity. i justify it by telling myself it’s cute.

when my mom asked me to come home for easter i agreed with two conditions: 1. an easter basket full of candy 2. someone has to reenact the death of christ. neither of which happened. i went home late missing church and did not spending the night. “easter baskets are only for the children who love her enough to spend the night.” whatever. as for the reenactment i don’t think anyone felt comfortable explaining to my grandmother why we were taking part in something so blasphemous–on a sunday no less!

instead the boys celebrated like any other holiday… by fighting. i will never understand why the nielson males need to bond by rolling around on the floor. at least stand up and punch each other in the face. it’s more socially acceptable that way.

“winners never quit, quitters never win.” pshhh…puh-lease. i think quitting can be rewarding… like the time, at age six, i quit ballet because the girl next to me peed herself three classes in a row. last week i quit my brothers wedding because i hated the bridesmaid dress, among other things–also, rewarding.

speaking of family, i’ll be heading to the country tomorrow to spend easter with mine. in our family we honor the death of christ with chocolate in many forms, as well as boiled eggs and the sand dunes. which really makes no sense to me whatsoever, but who am i to argue tradition.

It’s no secret I love Willie Nelson. I even have a snap shirt in my closet that once belonged to him. No lie.

To make up for being a brat in the parking lot last week, Ben brought over a Willie record and put it under my very pink tree. I’m going to make him feel guilty for something else and cross my fingers I get the Christmas record next!

My dog’s love for him, however, was a secret until today when i came home to find her laying by his record. cute, but creepy…