Okay, for starters, the fact that I am even mentioning Nick Carter in a blog, or anywhere else for that fact, simply has to be the first sign of the apocalypse, so you may all want to batten down the hatches now and prepare for the end of the world. Here’s where it gets weirder. I had a dream last night that I was walking into what I think was like a small grocery or magazine store. Two guys I knew from my high school daze were sitting near the register. I said hi as I passed by and kept on walking. They called after me saying ‘Oh yeah, you walk right by the tabloids’. Well yeah, I don’t read the tabloids, moron. Get a clue. Shah. (Okay well I sometimes read US magazine but only at my hairdresser's!) Anyho, back to the dream.
I grab what I came in to get and walk by the register again and see Frank magazine (for those of you not from NS, it’s a local rag for gossip of well known figures in the area). I’m on the cover, sitting near the waterfront on a stone wall wearing shades, my head thrown back as I laugh riotously at something my cohort said. That cohort, whose arm is slung around behind me, is Nick Carter. I groan. It’s not what you think, I tell them. I was just in town getting my license renewed and we ran into each other. He’s just a friend, I swear! No one believed me.
I don’t even like Nick Carter. What the hell is up with that dream?? Although the fact that I made the cover of Frank as a well known person bodes well, don’t you think? Still…why couldn’t I have been sitting next to Johnny Depp, or Gerard Butler, or Jim Caviziel? But oh nooo…my subconscious had to cack up Nick Carter. That’s just so wrong.
Moving on. In brighter, less disturbing news – my website is almost ready! Woo hoo!! Probably within a week www.kellyboyce.com will be up and running. I can’t wait. We’re still tweaking it a bit but I love the look of it. Gary the Computer Guru (http://www.grdbconsulting.com) did a fabulous job taking what I had in my head and putting it into a webpage. Very exciting. I can’t believe I’m going to have my own website. I did the little happy dahnce of joy. Okay, it was more like a big dahnce of joy, at least up until the point where I tripped over the treadmill and did a face plant into the bookshelf. I am perhaps not nearly as graceful as I would like to think I am.
And finally, I was speaking to my mother this morning. We avoided the topic of the porn—I mean love scene—I had last given her. Okay it wasn’t porn. It was a well crafted, sensual love scene. But I know my mother is going to think it’s porn! Oh my god, I made my mother read porn!!! Groan…banging of head on desk ensues…I do this a lot. I’m probably brain damaged.
Anyway – the non-pornographic well crafted love scene isn’t the point. My mother called to say my sister-in-law is probably days away from dropping the latest addition to the family. Which is great. Except for one thing. I don’t have a gift ready yet!! I was banking on the due date. Why can’t she just squeeze her legs together and hold it in until June 21st??? Why?? I am not ready! I have no money to buy something! I have to make it! I don't have time!! AHHHH!!!
More groaning…more banging of head…more swelling of the brain…
13 comments:
Nick Carter? NICK CARTER?!
That's it. I disavow any knowledge of you and dissolve our friendship because you're obviously not the person I thought you were, not to mention you must be harbouring some deep seeded psychosis about something to be dreaming about that effeminate tool. Incomplete indeed.
And you dream about grocery stores alot.
Well sure, I worked in a grocery store for four years, so that part I get. But Nick Carter??? NICK CARTER??? Ohhhh the horror...the inhumanity...Fire up the electro shock, Grasshopper, I need da juice! Gzzttt!!!
I'm sorry, I'm too busy cleaning wine out of the carpet for Brad. Get in the tub, I'll throw in the toaster.
I dunno...I think you'll get too distracted with Brad's dribbly wine to remember to unplug the toaster before I fry.
No, it's okay. I'll remember, SWEAR. Really. Now hop on in there honey.
Mmmm...yeah, no.
I can forgive the whole Nick Carter thing because I've had dreams with much less cuter guys. But still - it had to make you go WTF? when you woke up this morning.
I love reading your blog - your writing is just hilarious!
Nick Carter? Geez, what's next, Justin Timberlake???
Oh, Kelly, it's like you've stepped over to the dark side. I don't know if you can be saved. (of course, I've been saying that for 9 years now *G*)
Nikki, you will never be sane. I thought you knew that? Did you not get the memo??
Sadly the Convos pix I saw after the dream. It was like reality mocking me. I blame it on Much Music. I must have seen the new video or something...yes, it's that crazy video station that did it!
Listen, as your oldest... and by oldest I mean MOST FABULOUS...and dearest friend I have to say that you're just going to have to step up to the plate, grab yourself by the cahonies (not for any reason, just because it's fun) and admit there is something, as miniscule as it is, but SOMETHING about -that guy- (I can't bring myself to say his name) that you find... *gulp*... alluring. Maybe it's those luscious man boobs or that marshmellow tummy that looks like the soft white underbelly of a beached whale...
Excuse me, I have to go. I just threw up in my mouth a little bit.
Yeah thanks. You made me throw up a little.
I've also decided you need deprogramming and order you to listen to 10 hours of Pearl Jam, Our Lady Peace, Alanis, Hole, Bif Naked, Distillers and any other band that could kick your ass and would never tour with Britney Spears or be in a fast food commercial. You must also watch Sid & Nancy 3 times in sucession, as well as Twister, just because I said so. After that I want you to email Courtney Love and apologize for your dream, replying with nothing but a meek 'Yes sir' as she berates your ass between bong hits. Then I want you to put on some cargo pants and combat boots, go to the mall and lecture anyone buying clothes at the Gap how they are funding kiddie porn with every purchase of capri pants and matching shirt.
I'll be up to investigate your CD collection because I suspect you're hiding something.
Hey, you're the one with the Gwen Stefani CD. Oh sure, you say you bought it for your daughter, but you can't fool me. And do I need to bring up the whole Tulli (sp?) CD that you told me I simply had to go buy?? Now I'll gladly turn up the tuneage for PJ and OLP, but Courtney Love doesn't get diddly from me because someone that torqued out of her gord doesn't deserve my verbage. There you are on your own. And you know damn well I could kick her butt.
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