It's Motherfucking March

It is March, thank you FUCKING god, it is March.

I swore I wouldn’t write another blog entry until February ended. They were getting too irritatingly whiny. Jesus Christ, is February that bad every year? It literally made me go “the crazy.” I had to take February 28th off from work because I just couldn’t take it. I called Joe, my cousin and the drummer from the Maxipads at work yesterday, telling him that I could practice, and when he asked me why I was not at work, I started bawling and gasping, “Because I’m CRAZY!”
Driving home from Robbo’s dad’s house in the South Hills over the weekend, I saw a marquee outside a Heating & Cooling company that read, “It’s not just you, it’s February.” I know it was referring to temperature and not my unending depression, but I still wish I’d had my camera. Or that my camera worked. Whatever.

Today we turn over a new leaf. It’s March, motherfuckers.

So. What’s new with me, you ask? You didn’t ask, but it’s my blog, so I don’t care. I’ve been running. A lot. I’ve been concerned with “getting my time down.” This does not sound like me. I know. This is the new non-smoking me. Non-smoking me says things like, “I should buy a pedometer.” Non-smoking me wonders if it’s better for endurance-building to run for longer at a slower pace, or do bursts of faster intensity running. Non-smoking me doesn’t know the answer to this, but she still eats Girl Scout cookies before bed, so…you know. Some things never change. Nikki and I are running my first (not her first) 5K in May. I run now. Huh. Please also visit Nikki’s blog for a photo of me playing bass and sweating all over my new EC Star dress. Sexy. Not really.

Also, the Maxipads first album, which was recorded in January, has (allegedly) finally been mixed, and we should be picking it up tomorrow night at the Test Patterns/Gito Gito Hustler show at the 31st Street Pub (which, by the way, I recommend everyone attend because it’s gonna be awesome.) We’ve still not decided on a name, although I am pulling for “The Maxipads Go To Fat Camp” which would feature pictures of us in cheaply made (read: newspaper-stuffed) fat suits, or “Crying on the Inside” which would be us dressed in clown suits but gently weeping, or simply ripping off a classic album name, such as “Licensed to Ill.” Any time anyone says anything vaguely funny, I’m like “Ooh! ‘Cornstarch in the soup?’ That’s a perfect name for our album!” I can’t wait until it has been sent to be pressed so I can stop thinking about record names. And just because I’m vain and I like this picture, courtesy of Nikki:

Oh, and congratulations to Lauren & Jules, my former roommate(s) who have decided to tie the knot. They announced their engagement forever ago and I keep forgetting to mention it. And also to Lex & Milo, Lex being one of my best friends from college, who are also going the way of the big M. I hope none of them have to go to Jesus Camp like RJ and Nicole.

So, my darlings, it is March, and things are looking up. Get ready for more frequent and less emo entries.
I want to hug the world. I want to give the world a lollipop. It’s gonna be a good spring, I can feel it.

(Cue me getting run over by a bus.)