tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-60650222011-04-21T18:52:41.510-04:00Musings from the Deep Southfeeleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01889147785208215805noreply@blogger.comBlogger1071100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6065022.post-1124525010048156842005-08-20T04:02:00.000-04:002005-08-20T04:03:30.053-04:00

Today around noon on my way to retrieve the newspaper, I glanced casually down the street looking for threats to my person in the form of traffic and instead was greeted by my border collie prancing triumphantly towards me with an entire bucket of Kentucky Fried Chicken.When approached, she relinquished the bucket graciously, deferentially, and without undue fanfare and wiggled delightedly as I

feeleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01889147785208215805noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6065022.post-1120943204435401022005-07-09T16:57:00.000-04:002005-07-09T17:14:44.303-04:00

So, in case you missed it: London got bombed. I'm in London. Here's my story (the short version):I had just gotten to the King's Cross station via the Metropolitan line and was waiting to transfer onto another train when the (second, I found out later) explosion happened. It was loud and yucky, and it seemed like it took forEVER to get back up from underground, but I'm fine and everyone here with

feeleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01889147785208215805noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6065022.post-1120418448739140282005-07-02T12:30:00.000-04:002005-07-03T15:20:48.743-04:00

Last night was one of those nights you just know you'll still be talking about years later.And I can't even do it justice. I don't think I should even try, really, because details keep coming back to me that suggest that this entry would be of epic length. Suffice it to say, if I left this fucking country tonight and never came back, I could feel confident in asserting that I have experienced

feeleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01889147785208215805noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6065022.post-1119538134581419572005-06-23T10:16:00.000-04:002005-06-23T10:48:54.620-04:00

Yeah, I'm aware I had to combine movie names for that pathetic excuse for an entry title, but I don't have all day to be creative for you people.So this trip? Is forty-two kinds of awesome. And for some reason the fact that I knew only a few aquaintances before I got here has made it even better. I think it's the added challenge of making a whole new group of friends without the safety net of

feeleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01889147785208215805noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6065022.post-1117144123701308932005-05-26T17:22:00.000-04:002005-05-26T17:48:43.723-04:00

Yeah yeah, so I haven't posted in forever. I could say it's because I've been really busy, which is true, but we all know the real reason is because I'm lazy and uninspired. But! Now I get to be lazy and uninspired in Europe! Le sigh.I didn't think I could be more excited about this trip, but then I went to my first day of class. Holy shit dudes. Who knew that fucking "Acting Shakespeare"

feeleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01889147785208215805noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6065022.post-1112406516268554902005-04-01T20:25:00.000-05:002005-04-03T03:17:34.873-04:00

Okay apparently I can go weeks without posting on here, but as soon as I start back I can't seem to stop. But this is blogworthy: The friendly employees at the sushi place down the street? Know me, and I have a "usual". THIS IS AWESOME.I think this probably has something to do with the fact that, when I gave up fast food for Lent, I got take-out from there like twice a week. In my very loose

feeleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01889147785208215805noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6065022.post-1112403917012167872005-04-01T19:56:00.000-05:002005-04-01T20:05:17.016-05:00

Do you ever get the vague sense that the universe is trying to fuck with you? That it considers your very existence an elaborate cosmic joke and therefore views your mind as its personal playground? Just me then?Today has been weird. It started when I woke up at 6:00 this morning for no damn reason I can think of, and then couldn’t go back to sleep no matter how long I defiantly remained in bed

feeleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01889147785208215805noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6065022.post-1110670948528633622005-03-12T18:23:00.000-05:002005-03-12T18:42:28.530-05:00

This is the first time I've ever opted not to go somewhere because I don't want to pay for gas. Grr. I hate it when world events start affecting my personal life.At least it gave me time to feng shui my bedroom! Now my room at the apartment is just one swirling hub of positive energy. Hear that? It's the tranquil hum of my cleansed aura and my karmic--alright, I just rearranged some

feeleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01889147785208215805noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6065022.post-1110567329437179572005-03-11T13:35:00.000-05:002005-03-11T13:55:29.440-05:00

Uh, ma’am? Yeah, you, a few rows back. What… in God’s name are you doing?No, I—just no. See, Mr. Henley’s actually pretty specific about this. The lyric says “dance”. “Dance”. Dammit, now see, you’re not listening. At no point in the song is there anything about “flailing one’s arms like a windmill” or “swaying rhythmlessly” or “falling into one’s husband like a woozy kitten while one’s

feeleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01889147785208215805noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6065022.post-1110329465152704252005-03-08T19:01:00.000-05:002005-03-08T19:54:12.896-05:00

I think this crazy weather we're having is really a conspiracy by the gods to thwart my triumphant return to this business we call show.As any avid patron of the arts is well aware, after my riveting yet elegantly understated performance as Mama Bear in my elementary school's production of The Trial of Goldilocks met with immense critical acclaim, I took a self-imposed hiatus from the bright

feeleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01889147785208215805noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6065022.post-1109992023971098842005-03-04T22:00:00.000-05:002005-03-04T22:07:03.973-05:00

I am in a truly, incredibly, bafflingly good mood today. I’m sure it’ll pass.It started this morning when I woke up feeling much less hungover than I rightfully deserved to, and it’s only escalated from there. It’s not that I usually wake up desperately dreading my own life or anything, far from it. But this year started out with a bang—the bang of the proverbial shit hitting the fan, that is.

feeleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01889147785208215805noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6065022.post-1108691118800165962005-02-17T20:39:00.000-05:002005-02-17T20:45:18.806-05:00

What is this "adulthood" of which you speak?I think it is a testament to my self-destructive nature that I only feel the urge to blog when I have something very important and very time-sensitive to do, so I’ve decided to force myself to blog now, even though I don’t really have anything to put off. We’ll see how it goes.I was on the phone today talking about the Metblog meetup last night, and I

feeleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01889147785208215805noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6065022.post-1107321261040689642005-02-01T23:44:00.000-05:002005-02-02T00:16:08.013-05:00

Take notes, amateurs. 1. Sit down with laptop. 2. Check email. Respond to any new messages, and write pointless notes to friends so that in 15 minutes or so, you will be justified in checking your email again, just to see if those friends have had a chance to respond. 3. Check other email. Rinse, lather, repeat. 4. Sign on to AIM. Talk briefly if anyone of interest is on. Put up away message

feeleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01889147785208215805noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6065022.post-1106796494557469692005-01-26T22:17:00.000-05:002005-01-26T23:13:09.720-05:00

I have a really bad feeling that, once the time comes for me to pass my pure sparkling genes on to the next generation, I'm going to end up being one of those parents. You know the ones I'm talking about. The ones who are fascinated by their kid's every move and expression, who think every slobber bubble or fistful of strained peas is a moment that should be captured for posterity with their

feeleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01889147785208215805noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6065022.post-1106616459657922972005-01-24T19:30:00.000-05:002005-01-24T21:07:55.266-05:00

One of my new professors is a lovable, hilarious cross between Conan O'Brien (tall, lanky, always wears dress pants and a button-up shirt) and Harry Potter (British, wire-rim glasses, yeah, that's all I got). Since he's funny and doesn't bug me, I actually listen when he starts to venture into territory that sounds suspiciously like a tangental idea that will never appear on a test, and last week

feeleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01889147785208215805noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6065022.post-1106077616300545092005-01-18T14:14:00.000-05:002005-01-18T14:55:51.283-05:00

For years I have harbored a deep and insatiable need to have the opening riff of Aerosmith's "Walk this Way" as my cell phone ringtone. My wireless provider, Cingular, does not offer it. Perhaps someone in this wide wonderful world of the internet knows from whence I can obtain it. I am prepared to pay any amount of money for this piece of polyphonic perfection. Well, I have to be honest, I

feeleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01889147785208215805noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6065022.post-1105306288673129632005-01-09T16:00:00.000-05:002005-01-09T16:31:28.673-05:00

Who's idea was it to give Briggitte Nelson and Flava Flav their own show? Seriously. I want names. VH1, you've always been a guilty pleasure, but come on. Even guilty pleasures should have some boundaries. Also, I am concerned with Fatty the Cat's mental condition. I have reason to believe she is suffering from a feline form of Alzheimer's. She acts... different. I don't know, it's hard

feeleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01889147785208215805noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6065022.post-1103222049801833832004-12-16T13:30:00.000-05:002004-12-17T18:55:05.126-05:00

After an up-and-down Fall semester, I once again managed to put forth only the minimum amount of effort required and still come away with respectable grades. Let's take a closer look at the semester that was: ECON: After starting out strong with the 2nd-highest grade in the class on the first test, I decided to reward myself by taking a little "vacation" from this class. It was all downhill from

feeleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01889147785208215805noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6065022.post-1102803942092125752004-12-11T17:18:00.000-05:002005-10-23T23:53:12.823-04:00

Rather than thinking up an interesting topic to blog about and composing a creative and thoughtful entry, which I would love to do except for the fact that I've got nothing, I will instead bore you with answering 20 questions lifted from someone else's blog and allow you to learn something about the least interesting subject in the world: Me.Try to contain your excitement. Here we go.1. Tell me

feeleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01889147785208215805noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6065022.post-1102229378384036422004-12-05T01:42:00.000-05:002004-12-05T01:49:38.383-05:00

This year, I am brazenly cutting out the middleman and sending my Christmas list directly to the Lord. Screw Santa. [sidebar: You see, I can do this, regardless of my flagrant heathenistic tendencies, because I was raised a Southern Baptist, which (for those of you lucky bastards who don't reside in the Deep South) means that, as long as you believe in your heart that you are saved, the Lord God

feeleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01889147785208215805noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6065022.post-1101097519155840002004-11-21T22:42:00.000-05:002004-11-21T23:35:05.103-05:00

I caught up with some great folks who also happen to have the stigma I mean honor of being from my little town last night: G and the Professor! G is one of my oldest, dearest friends from waaaay back when I wasn't the gorgeous, confident, poised young goddess that I am today. (Snerk) She's about 23 shades of awesome. Interestingly enough, she has a lot in common with my former roommate, Wilma.

feeleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01889147785208215805noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6065022.post-1100483121311713012004-11-14T20:38:00.000-05:002004-11-14T20:45:21.310-05:00

We pull out of your driveway towards the train station, me in the passenger seat clutching a chocolate chip muffin and a cup of coffee, and you at the wheel. "How’s that muffin?" you ask. "Your Gramma really likes those muffins. Annie always gets them for her when she’s here. She likes the Cranberry-Orange." We talk warmly about my all-to-brief visit. We laugh about the bedlam at the

feeleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01889147785208215805noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6065022.post-1099875079648577402004-11-07T19:03:00.000-05:002004-11-07T19:51:19.646-05:00

No, really. ENOUGH. I don't think there is any conceivable way that I could be less tired of the homophobia and general close-mindedness that I have been subjected to since I temporarily moved back to the 1800s-er, I mean Northwest Georgia. If you just spent your Saturday night with a bunch of drunk, toothless, middle-aged hillbillies watching Professional Championship Wrestling, live, in a

feeleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01889147785208215805noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6065022.post-1099792054849480382004-11-06T20:18:00.000-05:002004-12-05T02:19:13.000-05:00

I sure hope everyone enjoyed that last entry there. You know, the one from ONE FULL MONTH ago. Honestly, had I known the Rocksnobs entry would be it for Feeley and blogger for the month, I might have put forth a little more effort. So. Last month was a good time, doncha' think? Let's see, last month I went to NYC and upstate NY for fall break, my Hoot finally came back from Photography school in

feeleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01889147785208215805noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6065022.post-1097095940236094352004-10-06T15:44:00.000-04:002004-10-06T17:16:28.093-04:00

I bought one of those "cd wallpaper" things that you put cds or cd covers in and hang on your wall from this kid that had a catalog of stuff that he was selling for some worthy cause or another. He's the kid of a coworker, so of course I felt obligated to buy something, and the cd thing was one of the cheapest items in the catalog at $8, so it seemed like a good decision. It was. I got it like

feeleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01889147785208215805noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6065022.post-1095476944563679662004-09-17T23:05:00.000-04:002004-09-17T23:09:04.563-04:00

BUD LIGHT: You're laid back and low maintenance - apeople-person, who wants everyone else to behaving as much fun as you are. You makefriends and jokes easily, and though you'redefinitely a smart ass, you're good-natured.Every man's beer for everyone's friend. The Greatest Beer Quiz, ever! brought to you by Quizilla

feeleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01889147785208215805noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6065022.post-1095129130419539622004-09-13T22:03:00.000-04:002004-09-13T22:36:21.123-04:00

I had a skin cancer removed last week. This may not be the least fun way to spend a Thursday morning, but it has got to be close. I think part of the problem was that I was not mentally prepared for this type of traumatic event. I thought that the doctor would look at the offending spot, maybe take a sample for testing, and then we would go from there. Nope. He took one look at it, determined it

feeleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01889147785208215805noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6065022.post-1094265529105423572004-09-03T22:10:00.000-04:002004-09-03T22:38:49.106-04:00

First of all, let me just say that I've been really busy with school, work, etc and haven't updated worth a shit. This little entry should have been composed last Monday night when all the crazy sentences were still fresh in my mind, but this very abbreviated version will have to do. So Jack came over Monday night to get me to help him with an English worksheet about dependent clauses. This

feeleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01889147785208215805noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6065022.post-1093484367355288182004-08-25T21:05:00.000-04:002004-08-26T12:32:28.203-04:00

Finally! I was formulating a blog entry in my head on the way home from school this afternoon but couldn't get into blogger. Does anyone else think that Kelly Clarkston has a little Sheryl Crow-yness to her voice in her latest single, "Breakaway"? Don't get me wrong, I would never mistake Kelly Clarkston for Sheryl Crow, or vice versa, because I adore Sheryl Crow's songwriting and Kelly

feeleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01889147785208215805noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6065022.post-1092784027537541712004-08-17T18:53:00.000-04:002004-08-17T19:07:07.536-04:00

Once again I have managed to stumble upon merchandise with a highly questionable origin, this time in the form of Louis Vuitton luggage. I didn't have a whole ton of cash on me, so I just bought this for a cool $150, about 92% off the retail price. Too bad I'm not going to New York until late November. Maybe I'll go hang out at Hartsfield for the day just to wheel my awesome luggage around.

feeleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01889147785208215805noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6065022.post-1092019904347674292004-08-08T22:22:00.000-04:002004-08-25T21:47:24.940-04:00

I'm moving to a sweet gated community in Kennesaw! This place is about 14 tons of awesome. It kicks my old apartment's ass any day, and get this: I'm less that one mile from Town Center mall, an ice skating rink, Wal-Mart, tons of restaurants, and school. Plus I can be in Buckhead in 20 minutes. I love it. Jack and I went down there to chill last night. We only got in one (relatively) minor

feeleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01889147785208215805noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6065022.post-1091072045398252262004-07-28T23:20:00.001-04:002004-07-28T23:34:05.396-04:00

For ten days every July, my town flexes it's redneck muscles to play host to hundreds of would-be cowboys and girls.  I'm not really sure how we got so lucky. The shindig consists of rodeo events, dancing, camping, drinking, smoking, and... stuff, (I don't really know because I've never been) and culminates in the famous "parade" in which our town encourages this type of cultural mudslide by

feeleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01889147785208215805noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6065022.post-1091071205972094022004-07-28T23:20:00.000-04:002004-07-28T23:20:05.973-04:00

Look, it's rush hour. 

feeleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01889147785208215805noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6065022.post-1091071051928927992004-07-28T23:17:00.000-04:002004-07-28T23:17:31.926-04:00

Ahh, the pleasing aroma of horseshit. 

feeleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01889147785208215805noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6065022.post-1090623612650887942004-07-23T18:41:00.000-04:002004-07-23T19:02:01.780-04:00

Today I had my friend Mindy's kid, one-year-old Towie.  He's the coolest. I was driving Mindy's mom's Maxima with Towie in tow, and whoever had driven the Maxima last had been listening to an Usher cd.  Well, the song "Yeah" came on and Towie started shaking his moneymaker and really getting into it.  For an 18 month old, he's got some moves.  So then when Ludacris started rapping, I said, "

feeleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01889147785208215805noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6065022.post-1090345917693242532004-07-20T13:36:00.000-04:002004-07-20T13:51:57.693-04:00

Oops, I haven't updated in awhile.    That's mostly because I've been on vacation with my whole family: Grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, siblings, etc.  Despite how it sounds, it was actually really fun.  We ate, drank, and made merry, I got a killer tan, we chartered a fishing boat and caught lots of fish and other miscellaneous stuff, we had a big poker tournament (like, with blinds and

feeleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01889147785208215805noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6065022.post-1089078962120128732004-07-05T21:37:00.000-04:002004-07-05T21:56:02.130-04:00

Because of the enormous success of FreshBlues, Inc's recently launched line of freshly picked blueberries, the FreshBlues Corporation is pleased to announce that we are expanding our empire to include the biggest, plumpest, juiciest blackberries ever to try to market themselves globally. These prize-winning blackberries will be sold at a special introductory offer of $4 per baggie, and

feeleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01889147785208215805noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6065022.post-1088745599887854022004-07-02T00:31:00.000-04:002004-07-02T01:24:33.513-04:00

Maybe it's because I'm a college student, or maybe it's the company I often keep, but I have very liberal ideas about alcohol consumption. Namely, I feel alcohol is meant to be enjoyed liberally. I also know that drinking can get out of hand. However, some people can drink more (sometimes much, much more) than normal during times of stress--promptly returning to their regular drinking

feeleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01889147785208215805noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6065022.post-1088648952825443672004-06-30T21:29:00.000-04:002004-06-30T22:34:46.050-04:00

As a voting adult, I felt the need to see what the hype surrounding this film was about. It seems everyone has an opinion about Fahrenheit 9/11 and the views it expresses. A quick internet search produced this review bashing the film, while here's an article singing its praises, just two of many, many things written about it. The film would be more effective if it wasn't so extremely radical;

feeleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01889147785208215805noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6065022.post-1088391034846024782004-06-27T22:08:00.000-04:002004-06-27T22:53:04.100-04:00

I realize this is a huge step, but I believe my company and I are ready for it. As President and Founder of FreshBlues Inc, an independent corporation that produces, picks, packages, and pimps I mean sells blueberries, I am issuing this official press release to announce that my corporation is going global. Effective immediately, every person in the world will have the opportunity to purchase

feeleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01889147785208215805noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6065022.post-1087954350716056752004-06-22T21:14:00.000-04:002004-06-22T21:41:34.526-04:00

...and I've been working like a freakin trojan. (tm Ghandi) Seriously, these 10 hour work days are killing me. It may not sound like much, but where I work we never sit down. We stand at the computer, we stand to count pills, we stand to greet customers and present them with their prescriptions, we stand to go to the drive-through window (and also sing "To the window! to the wall! (dat wall!

feeleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01889147785208215805noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6065022.post-1086752986043589462004-06-08T23:42:00.000-04:002004-06-12T18:22:48.876-04:00

I cannot even freaking tell you what an awesomely awesome blast of an awesome time I had on that freaking vacation!! This one's definitely in the running for Best Vacation Ever. No really. EVER. I thought long and hard about what/how to cover the Booze Cruise on this blog, and I finally concluded that what happened on the boat (and in the camper, and in the Bahamas, and in Daytona, and...

feeleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01889147785208215805noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6065022.post-1086209468124408742004-06-02T16:22:00.000-04:002004-06-02T16:54:42.736-04:00

Lots of stuff to mention briefly: I've been working steadily at Cartrunk Casino, and I also kept Ghandi's two boys, Ty & Ry, at Ghandi's Temple, so I have some disposable income. It's a good thing, too, because I'll most likely drink it all away this weekend while I'm on a CRUISE. Being the well-traveled woman that I am, I find it ludicrous that I have never been on a cruise before, so in

feeleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01889147785208215805noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6065022.post-1085880869723799962004-05-29T21:14:00.000-04:002004-05-29T21:34:29.723-04:00

On this lazy Saturday afternoon, my brothers' boredom reached an all-time low: Dick was sitting on the couch absentingly strumming his guitar while the Maz was in an adjacent room messing around on the piano when, to my horror, Dick started responding on his guitar to what the Maz was playing on the piano. Before long, they were engaged in a full-on duet. Oh, the humanity. And the summer just

feeleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01889147785208215805noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6065022.post-1085789554124978812004-05-28T19:44:00.000-04:002004-05-28T20:12:34.126-04:00

It is my belief that there is a direct correlation between unemployment and alcoholism. As a member of the non-working class, I'm here to tell you that when you have no reason to be anywhere at any time, ever, it kind of messes with your head. Sure, you have things to do, friends to hang out with, that sort of thing, but your days don't have any structure, and even if you're not the type of

feeleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01889147785208215805noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6065022.post-1085606620136690692004-05-26T16:46:00.000-04:002004-05-28T04:01:49.810-04:00

Dick graduated. Whooptie-friggin'-do. Dick made the comment that he didn't really understand why graduating from high school merited such a to-do, and I remember feeling the same way when I graduated. I mean, in this day and time when public education has been in place for quite some time, everyone pretty much graduates. There are the dumb shits who manage to fail a class right at the end,

feeleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01889147785208215805noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6065022.post-1085011806176381942004-05-19T19:59:00.000-04:002004-05-19T20:10:06.176-04:00

Look! It's my new template! I'm very pleased with myself because not only did I successfully transport all of my personal touches onto this new template, but I also customized the colors and fonts!! Okay so that's really not all that impressive, but I never tried to alter anything like that before, so I was quite impressed with the results of my trial and error. And I've had plenty of time to

feeleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01889147785208215805noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6065022.post-1084727486157557092004-05-16T13:04:00.000-04:002004-05-20T20:32:36.763-04:00

CONGRATULATIONS! We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted to the University of Georgia for Fall 2004. Your demonstrated academic performance and potential for success in our university community have earned you transfer admission to the Franklin College of Arts and Sciences... On behalf of the University of Georgia community, it is a true pleasure to welcome you as a member of

feeleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01889147785208215805noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6065022.post-1083802114055565802004-05-05T20:08:00.000-04:002004-05-05T20:12:59.996-04:00

Actually, yeah it is. I hate Killjoy. HATE her. HATE. HER. With the passion of a million burning suns. I will not miss her; in fact, if I never, ever, see her again, it will be TOO SOON. As if we really needed further proof that she is an evil, horrid, delusional she-bitch, she managed to crank the bitchiness level up about 300 notches as well as dialing down her already low intelligence

feeleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01889147785208215805noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6065022.post-1083643992119930292004-05-04T00:13:00.000-04:002004-05-04T00:17:15.716-04:00

God Save The Queen Remember the Telephone Game, the game where everyone gets in a line and the teacher whispers a phrase to the first person in line, perhaps something like, "The Princess is going to the movies with her two favorite roomies this evening and then coming home", and the first person whispers what they heard to the next person, and so on until the person at the very end of the line

feeleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01889147785208215805noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6065022.post-1083612333697953462004-05-03T15:25:00.000-04:002004-05-03T19:06:55.936-04:00

Ahhhh. I love the smell of marijuana and beer in the early afternoon. That’s right; this year’s installment of Music Midtown is officially over. With this, I honor its legacy. Day 1: "And the Reason Is... Ew" We took Marta from Lenox Mall to North Avenue (“we” being myself and my concert-loving crony Wilma) and marched purposefully several long blocks to the gate. Upon entering, we

feeleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01889147785208215805noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6065022.post-1083100023460771192004-04-27T17:07:00.000-04:002004-04-27T19:45:28.436-04:00

I came home from school on a Tuesday this week. I thought my family would be happy to see me. I thought wrong. It seems my brother Dick was charged with the important and apparently impossibly difficult task of delivering my other brother the Maz to his dentist's office by 1:30. Sounds easy enough, but the Maz could not find his way out of a wet paper bag with a map and a compass, and Dick

feeleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01889147785208215805noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6065022.post-1082912233528677832004-04-25T12:57:00.000-04:002004-04-27T19:44:54.296-04:00

There have been mysterious goings-on here at the homestead of late. Things just break and fall apart of their own accord. Well, at least one of the things a few of us know something about, but since we live with Killjoy, the Most Important Person In The World, whose immense ego and low intelligence leads her to believe that danger is lurking everwhere, it's funnier just to play dumb. Earlier

feeleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01889147785208215805noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6065022.post-1082654018368858732004-04-22T13:13:00.000-04:002004-04-22T23:47:15.576-04:00

Last night, I partied with my good buddy and former roommate J Blo. J Blo was my roomie last year in the dorms, and she's really cool. She now lives in a house in Party Central, and I have absolutely no idea why I haven't been hanging out there all year! It was so much fun. I met some cool people, too. Who knew anyone cool (besides Wilma, the Princess, White Chedda, Smiley, and me, of course

feeleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01889147785208215805noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6065022.post-1082520285879769422004-04-21T00:04:00.000-04:002004-04-22T23:50:28.700-04:00

Wow. I just--wow. And I don't mean the Homeless-Kenny-I'm-half-retarded-and-mostly-drunk-and-I'm-pretty-impressed-with-anything-that-wanders-past-my-cardboard-house-type wow. We're talkin' blown-away-intensely-moved-nearly-speechless-type wow. Two words: amazing AMAZING. I can't possibly do justice to the awesomeness that was the Josh Groban concert, so here's a short list of interesting

feeleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01889147785208215805noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6065022.post-1082410281825748542004-04-19T17:31:00.000-04:002004-04-19T23:26:33.983-04:00

I am so sick of some parents' holier-than-fucking-thou opinion of their kids. These "kids", by the way, are actually around MY AGE, and trust me, they are NOT nearly as good as they would have their parents believe. For example, I ran into a mother this weekend who condescendingly informed me that she had heard that I was into the "party scene" (which, who the hell calls it the "party scene",

feeleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01889147785208215805noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6065022.post-1082050175316178942004-04-15T13:29:00.000-04:002004-04-15T18:46:47.450-04:00

Wilma, Smiley, White Chedda, the Princess (another roommate), and I had girl's night last night. I had a feeling going in that this evening wasn't going to bode well for my academic career, as I noted with detached concern that my paper that was due today still consisted solely of my name atop an otherwise blank Word document, but I just couldn't bring myself to care. First we went to Locos

feeleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01889147785208215805noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6065022.post-1081974305487691952004-04-14T16:25:00.000-04:002004-04-14T22:52:36.670-04:00

I feel as if I should tell you about the guy who sold me my Josh Groban tickets off of ebay. This information may come in handy if I happen to turn up missing, or, I don't know, brutally murdered/mutilated in the near future. So, his ebay nickname is TrippinBilly (with a few other letters thrown in. I don't want to disclose his exact user name as I would rather not be brutally murdered), which

feeleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01889147785208215805noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6065022.post-1081886087178194222004-04-13T15:54:00.000-04:002004-04-13T16:03:04.546-04:00

Since I haven't done anything productive in, I don't know, half a semester or so, I'm now thoroughly and hopelessly drowning in a sea of nearly-due papers, unread reading assignments, and unstudied-for tests. What, my usual half-assed fourth of an effort isn't good enough anymore? What is the world coming to? Enough about that, the real news today is that, barring another PayPal mishap, Wilma

feeleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01889147785208215805noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6065022.post-1081646034352755582004-04-10T21:13:00.000-04:002004-04-11T02:42:05.890-04:00

What a kick-ass weekend! Our dear family friend Mr. Huxtable and my brother, Dick, were at Mr. Huxtable's lake house because Mr. H is a teacher and Dick is still in high school and they were all on Spring Break. So Thursday, Dick's long-suffering girlfriend Ally, Mr. Huxtable's son Tiger, and I decided we would go up there as well. I love the lake, dudes. My love of the ocean is

feeleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01889147785208215805noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6065022.post-1081379974429525592004-04-07T19:19:00.000-04:002004-04-07T19:24:20.763-04:00

An amazing new discovery was made this afternoon as Wilma, Oprah, Smiley (one of my best friends from last year's excellent dorm adventure) and I dined at the neighborhood Bar & Grill: The crazy lady who gets totally wasted practically every single solitary day at this fine establishment's name is... *drumroll*... KATE!! Now I don't think I've ever really explained the fascination we've had

feeleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01889147785208215805noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6065022.post-1080950060188075572004-04-02T18:54:00.000-05:002004-04-03T00:07:38.280-05:00

My brothers are idiots. IDIOTS. I swear sometimes I think I must have been adopted. As I have mentioned, Dick was in a motorcycle wreck and spent a fairly lengthy amount of time in the hospital. He's only recently been able to get out and move around on crutches, but it will still be a good 9 weeks before he will be able to resume his normal activities. Then there's the Maz, who is quite

feeleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01889147785208215805noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6065022.post-1080851229334734332004-04-01T15:27:00.000-05:002004-04-01T15:30:48.076-05:00

"True love is hard to find, sometimes you think you have true love and then you catch the early flight home from San Diego and a couple of nude people jump out of your bathroom blindfolded like a goddamn magic show ready to double team your girlfriend..." - Mitch Martin, "Old School" Heh. Cracks me up every time.

feeleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01889147785208215805noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6065022.post-1080695734986409342004-03-30T20:15:00.000-05:002004-03-30T20:19:11.466-05:00

Wilma and I got our New York photos back today, and may I just say that you will never find two hotter people in all your life, so just give up the search now. I'm surprised we weren't approached by a modeling agency and signed on the spot while we were in Manhattan. Oh well. But seriously, these pictures are quite hilarious. The funniest ones are of Wilma: There's Wilma hopping on a pogo

feeleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01889147785208215805noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6065022.post-1080506911203187722004-03-28T15:48:00.000-05:002004-03-29T21:42:28.513-05:00

As anticipated, the New York trip kicked all sorts of ass. Read all about the scandalous escapades of Feeley and Wilma here. Day 1: Manhattan or Bust We began our journey before daybreak to catch the 8 am flight out of Atlanta. Despite some confusion as we tried to locate the elusive (non-existent, actually, but we didn't find that out until later) North Terminal Park & Fly lot, we eventually

feeleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01889147785208215805noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6065022.post-1080500596310361512004-03-28T14:03:00.000-05:002004-07-18T16:51:53.113-04:00

We slept til about 11 or so, then got up and got ready, and headed out for a day of wandering around the city. Again, we couldn't go more than half a block without some food, so we stopped in at a local pizza joint for a quick bite. We then hopped on the subway and rode up to Chinatown. Wilma and I both had a hankerin' for a knock-off Louis Vuitton bag, so we visited damn near all the little

feeleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01889147785208215805noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6065022.post-1080433546088576422004-03-27T19:25:00.000-05:002004-07-18T16:50:11.856-04:00

Again, we didn't get up until early afternoon, and we had to go next door and conjure Welly out of bed. We were hungry as usual, so we went to eat at Red's in the seaport. Then we hustled back to the West Village so Wilma could get her fake I.D. Then we got a cab and rode up to the Plaza Hotel to catch the bus for the Sex & the City tour. The tour was great fun; we got to see so much and being

feeleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01889147785208215805noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6065022.post-1080424661741304702004-03-27T16:57:00.000-05:002004-03-28T18:52:37.200-05:00

Which Classic Novel do You Belong In? brought to you by Quizilla In my not so humble opinion, you, of course, belongin the Picture of Dorian Gray, and do not tryto deny it. You belong in the fashionablecircles of Victorian London where exotictastes, a double life, decadence, wit and ahypocritical belief in moral betterment makeyou a home. You belong where the wittyapothegms of Lords, the silly

feeleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01889147785208215805noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6065022.post-1079581652002181132004-03-17T22:47:00.000-05:002004-03-20T15:24:29.090-05:00

Well, I haven't blogged in awhile because my brother, the much-heralded Dick, was in a serious motorcycle accident on Saturday, March 6. A helicopter ride, a couple nights on a ventilator, 5 nights in Trauma ICU, one surgery, 5 more nights in the hospital, and one personality-altering head injury later, and Dick is finally recuperating at home. Thanks for all the well-wishes. So, it was a

feeleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01889147785208215805noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6065022.post-1078539133348635172004-03-05T21:12:00.000-05:002004-03-05T21:15:15.653-05:00

Guess what! I have officially dropped a pants size! And I'm really excited about it! Now, you're probably thinking something along the lines of, "What size might that be, fatty," or "Try dropping a few more sizes, lardo." Just for the record, your criticism is neither productive nor appreciated. And also? Shut up, you parade-rainer-oner. It should also be noted that I've been kind of

feeleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01889147785208215805noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6065022.post-1078188171551538202004-03-01T19:42:00.000-05:002004-03-01T19:50:03.796-05:00

Even though I'm not losing weight as rapidly as I did at first (if I would get off my lazy, fat ass every once in awhile that would probably change), I was still really excited when I went home this weekend to find that I now weigh the same as my youngest brother, The Maz. See, I've been much smaller than my other brother, Dick, since he was 12 and I was 15. He now comes in at a massive 6'2,

feeleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01889147785208215805noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6065022.post-1078180683153493812004-03-01T17:38:00.000-05:002004-03-02T12:34:31.436-05:00

There's this kid in my Practical Criticism class that I have a sudden and incorrigible crush on. I've never noticed him before, but today when our professor broke us up into groups to discuss the finer points of Helene Cixous's take on James Joyce, God shined down on me and placed me in his group. He was Mr. Personality towards me, what with the grinning and the liking of my ideas and the

feeleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01889147785208215805noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6065022.post-1077760406948753862004-02-25T20:53:00.000-05:002004-02-25T20:56:16.246-05:00

Well, we made it, and everyone is still breathing. We had a crazy waiter for whom I don't even have to make up a weird nickname--his name was Jazzy. He and his pregnant 16-year-old girlfriend of 3 weeks provided most of the entertainment for the evening, so we didn't have to deal with Toxic Tina much. I'm just glad it's over. I shall now commence to drinking heavily. My two bottles of cheap

feeleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01889147785208215805noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6065022.post-1077745251459045592004-02-25T16:40:00.000-05:002004-02-25T20:57:56.936-05:00

Why, in the name of all that is good and holy, must we have these gawdawful roommate dinners?? I'm never really clear on who comes up with this dinner idea, but if I ever find out, retribution will be sweet. It's not that I don't like my roommates. Besides my widely publicized and all-consuming dislike of Tina, I really like and get along famously with the other two. But when we are all

feeleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01889147785208215805noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6065022.post-1077570280628689202004-02-23T16:04:00.000-05:002004-02-23T16:14:48.733-05:00

It wasn't perfect, but I, for one, LOVED the Sex & the City finale. I love that Charlotte & Harry are finally getting their Mandarin baby, I love that Samantha has a loving, devoted guy, I love that cynical Miranda showed compassion and selflessness, and I love that Carrie decided what she wanted (and didn't want) and ended up with Big. I didn't like the lack of Stanford (WTF mate?), the

feeleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01889147785208215805noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6065022.post-1077126235357972682004-02-18T12:43:00.000-05:002004-02-18T20:34:43.140-05:00

It's the end of an era: the final episode of Sex & the City airs this Sunday. As much as I don't want the show to end, I'm glad that it's ending while it's still so successful. I just hope that the final episode ties up all the loose ends for the characters that I've watched for 6 seasons. It will be hard to please all the loyal fans, but I'll be happy as long as all four women find

feeleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01889147785208215805noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6065022.post-1077052946828788072004-02-17T16:22:00.000-05:002004-02-18T20:35:10.170-05:00

"Good job overall, Lee Ann, even if you were ill. This essay is smart, clear, and well-written." So wrote my British Romanticism professor about my paper on Mary Wollstonecraft's educational theory. Even though I got a B because it was a day late, I'll take what I can get. That's still pretty good considering that I started it about 6 hours after it was due and I was, in fact, very ill.

feeleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01889147785208215805noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6065022.post-1077051988116271572004-02-17T16:06:00.000-05:002004-02-18T20:35:22.403-05:00

Well, I've reached the two week milestone. Not much to report, really; I'm still losing weight, slowly but steadily. The fact that I've seen results at all is enough reinforcement to ensure that I'll continue with it for awhile longer. Quote: "Subdue your appetites, my dears, and you have conquered human nature." --Charles Dickens

feeleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01889147785208215805noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6065022.post-1076792435922146532004-02-14T16:00:00.000-05:002004-02-18T20:36:04.186-05:00

I love being 21. LOVE it. However, sometimes people make asses of themselves in an attempt to acquire some of the demon alcohol. And that's not cool. Before this begins to sound really bitchy, let me just say that I've only been 21 for 5 months, so believe me, I distinctly remember the frustration of not being able to get alcohol when you want it. I also remember being eternally grateful to

feeleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01889147785208215805noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6065022.post-1076481211407620392004-02-11T01:33:00.000-05:002004-02-18T20:36:48.873-05:00

I wanted to tell everyone that, in honor of V-day, I got my equally single friend Wilma a bottle of vodka. Even if you're not attached, it's fun to let people know you care on this shitty, shitty day. And remember, nothing says "I love you", or "I like you" or "I kinda sorta know you, we met at that place that time" quite like a nice bottle of top-shelf liquor. E-mail me if you need my

feeleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01889147785208215805noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6065022.post-1076452043837696552004-02-10T17:27:00.000-05:002004-02-10T17:29:52.640-05:00

Well, I'm still trucking ahead with the whole Atkins thing. I haven't cheated at all since the Seagrams incident, and I've lost a moderate amount of weight for one week (about 7 lbs). This diet hasn't been as trying an ordeal as I thought it was going to be; in fact it's been quite simple. Hopefully in the next week or so I'll have lost enough weight to actually tell a difference.

feeleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01889147785208215805noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6065022.post-1076124519014528852004-02-06T22:28:00.000-05:002004-02-06T22:31:02.653-05:00

For no rhyme or reason, Wilma and I kind of made an unspoken decision to drink ourselves silly on Wednesday night. I really don't know why we would do that, but I'm sure glad we did. It was a blast. Well, the parts I can remember were a blast. Those three bottles of champagne that we had were enough to make me completely and utterly shithouse drunk. Then I got up and took a British Lit test.

feeleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01889147785208215805noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6065022.post-1076015344842037522004-02-05T16:09:00.000-05:002004-02-05T16:11:26.920-05:00

Well, I haven't toppled off the wagon yet. It's only Day 3, but you gotta start somewhere, right? I've actually done much better (so far) than I would have predicted. With the exception of an ill-advised and absent-minded slug from a Seagrams wine cooler, I've stayed pretty much carbohydrate-free. Those carbs are sneaky little bastards, I tell ya. The most difficult part so far has been

feeleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01889147785208215805noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6065022.post-1075866038914705322004-02-03T22:40:00.000-05:002004-02-03T22:42:58.360-05:00

In honor of the month of February, I thought I'd share my Valentine's Day thoughts. I will probably add to this entry as the month goes on and I get increasingly irritated. I refuse, on principle, to celebrate this lame holiday. Sure, I've had some marvelous Valentine's Days when I was both attached and unattached, but it doesn't make the concept of the day any less stupid. This year is going

feeleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01889147785208215805noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6065022.post-1075833160962130142004-02-03T13:32:00.000-05:002004-02-05T16:13:45.200-05:00

Okay, so Wilma started on the Atkins diet two weeks ago. I briefly considered doing it too before being informed that there would be NO DRINKING. Yeah. I didn't like the sound of that either. Like any self-respecting 21-year-old college student, I dismissed the idea on the spot and refused to reconsider. Even though I wasn't on the diet myself, I still ate with Wilma and got to feel her

feeleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01889147785208215805noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6065022.post-1075398909675335342004-01-29T12:55:00.000-05:002004-01-30T15:19:28.860-05:00

I'm all set for my first action-packed weekend in Crazy Town in the New Year. Tomorrow afternoon I shall roll into Town, guns ablazin', to meet the love of my life, Fiance. From there, I'm sure there will be some sort of eating-related activity involving some assortment of the Crazies, most likely including Sprout and possibly Cackles and/or the Cheesecake. After a few hours of food and

feeleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01889147785208215805noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6065022.post-1075324863096224622004-01-28T16:21:00.000-05:002004-01-28T16:30:10.936-05:00

I think I have finally identified where my unwavering dislike of my roommate, Tina, stems from. In addition to being a borderline psychotic, frighteningly self-absorbed, exasperatingly delusional hypochondriac/pathological liar with the personality of a possum carcass, she also has this inherent belief that she is more intelligent than the rest of us and therefore has every right to talk down to

feeleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01889147785208215805noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6065022.post-1074915158451343552004-01-23T22:32:00.000-05:002004-04-23T23:48:49.763-04:00

Yikes! My computer has some viruses. Yep, that's viruses, plural. It sucks. Luckily, my friend Miller's mother is working on it for me. So that's why I haven't updated lately. Anyway, I have some beers that need drinking so this will be short and sweet. Here's an update on the resident Crazies: since moving out of our apartment, Sprout seems to be doing quite well for himself; he managed

feeleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01889147785208215805noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6065022.post-1074455434656367432004-01-18T14:50:00.000-05:002004-01-18T14:52:32.170-05:00

I can listen to my Grandma and her best friend talk for hours and never get bored. Their 50+ year friendship is absolutely fascinating to me. I hope one day I have a friendship that's as strong as theirs is. So yeah, my Grandma's ex-sister-in-law/best friend and her husband are in town from upstate New York, and they came bearing home videos. In all seriousness, I didn't even know the

feeleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01889147785208215805noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6065022.post-1074221491060738962004-01-15T21:51:00.000-05:002004-01-16T18:41:07.263-05:00

We had a fifth roommate for a few days this week in the form of the previously mentioned Sprout. Wilma and I took this as an opportunity to declare ourselves on sabbatical from our usual responsibilities (schoolwork) and instead focus exclusively on entertaining our houseguest. As you will come to see, Wilma and I pretty much consider ourselves "entertained" as long as there are drinks and/or

feeleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01889147785208215805noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6065022.post-1073792434864810372004-01-10T22:40:00.000-05:002004-07-18T16:16:31.390-04:00

If I ever have to select new people to share an apartment with, there are a few questions I'm going to be sure to ask my prospective roommates. For example: Do you, in the fundamental depths of your soul, believe it's okay to pile dishes in the sink and leave them there for long periods of time? When you hear words such as "vacuum" and "dust", do you get the urge to run like a track star?

feeleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01889147785208215805noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6065022.post-1073618376417920422004-01-08T22:19:00.000-05:002004-07-18T16:15:43.536-04:00

Unless I stop sucking at life sometime in the near future (which I don't see happening), this is going to be a recurring theme on my blog. Uplifting, huh? Today's dream-crushing, life-altering, cryfest-inducing issue is: next school year. As some of you may know, I'm currently a junior at an undisclosed university in Georgia. Well, I hope to attend graduate school at another undisclosed

feeleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01889147785208215805noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6065022.post-1072225015954419242003-12-23T19:16:00.000-05:002003-12-24T01:45:51.446-05:00

-Urban Outfitters is the greatest store ever. -If there are seven people shopping together and six of them have cell phones, the one person without a phone will be the only person who wanders off alone, never to be seen for hours. -The holiday season is not reason enough for hoity-toity malls to stay open past nine p.m. (Phipps Plaza, I hate you) -The cute little liquor bottles in the minibar of

feeleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01889147785208215805noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6065022.post-1071601325279060912003-12-16T14:02:00.000-05:002003-12-17T20:21:14.550-05:00

Check out this site! It tells you what your battle cry is. Here are some examples: Yea, verily: Who is that, rampaging amidst the cliffs! It is Feeley, hands clutching a burning branch! And with an ominous howl, her voice cometh: "I'm going to brutalize you like a first grade teacher!" Striding over the terrain, cutting down all who dare stand in the way using an oversized scalpel, cometh

feeleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01889147785208215805noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6065022.post-1071549084134275462003-12-15T23:31:00.000-05:002005-10-24T00:20:58.023-04:00

Today, at 4:15 pm, my Nokia phone was disconnected for the last time. With this, I honor its memory.I hated that phone. It was the suckiest piece of suck that ever sucked. It would never stay charged, and in the 13.7 seconds when it was charged, it rarely had service. Why? Well, I thought it needed a new battery, and the Cingular people agreed with me, but then that didn't help, and neither did

feeleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01889147785208215805noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6065022.post-1071350521350181172003-12-13T16:22:00.000-05:002004-07-18T16:08:35.646-04:00

I don't have the words to express how happy I am that the semester is over. Fall Semester 2003, I hate you with the blinding rage of a thousand burning suns. Years from now, after much therapy, I'm sure I'll find out that all the problems of my entire life originated in this semester. Despite its overall suckiness, this semester does have one redeeming quality: It's OVER. Done. Completed.

feeleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01889147785208215805noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6065022.post-1071034605350863342003-12-10T00:36:00.000-05:002004-07-18T16:07:37.326-04:00

Okay, so I had to withdraw from Statistics because we got assigned a project to do over Thanksgiving and I was going to the beach with my family and therefore could not physically be in two places at once in order to complete the project with a group. So, even though I had a B in the class, I still get an automatic F for withdrawing. Just like that, I've gone from making all A's in highschool and

feeleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01889147785208215805noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6065022.post-1070854320892434582003-12-07T22:32:00.000-05:002003-12-07T22:39:22.583-05:00

To My Big Fat Fake Wedding. As you may know, my friend Biggeley (who will henceforth be referred to as Fiance) and I are stark raving crazy. As proof, we fabricated an elaborate courtship which culminated in our engagement a couple of months ago. Now, to add to the hysteria, we've decided to consumate our fake relationship with a mock wedding ceremony. In actuality, it will probably be no

feeleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01889147785208215805noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6065022.post-1070411391865736362003-12-02T19:29:00.000-05:002003-12-02T19:30:02.023-05:00

Some things are just not appropriate to do in restaurants. Things like painting one’s toenails, talking loudly and graphically about one’s sex life, and being completely and totally drunk off one’s ass are examples. Unfortunately, one lady at Applebee’s this afternoon managed to engage in all of these behaviors. In honor of her, here is a list of my favorite condom slogans. Cover your stump

feeleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01889147785208215805noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6065022.post-1070339315892366272003-12-01T23:28:00.000-05:002003-12-02T16:24:03.010-05:00

"General opinnion's starting to make out that we live in a world of hatred and greed- but I don't see that- seems to me that love is everywhere. You know, when the planes hit the Towers, as far as I know, none of the phone calls from the people on board were messages of hate or revenge - they were all messages of love. Often it's not particularly dignified or newsworthy- but it's always there-

feeleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01889147785208215805noreply@blogger.com