Unearthed from the Grotto.

Excuses come in many shapes and forms.

"Oh, I didn't go to the store, because I had a cramp. Oh, I didn't do the vacuuming because my allergies were bothering me."

You get the point.

So my excuse for not writing for myself about anything for the past 3 months or so is what would call, a "block".

All what has occurred within the past 3 months has been for me and me alone. My journey of self-discovery, self-realization, self-gratification, self-exploration. Okay, I seem to be getting a little overboard with the self...self thing.

I do have several things I just have to get off my chest however. Things that finally have pulled me out of the cave and back into the fray of writing.

American Idol.

The most popular show in America, I've been watching. And it has pissed me off to high hell and back. Part of me has been regretting watching the early part of this show. I started watching it last year towards the end, when I thought the bald guy was going to win. He of course didn't, however, he has become quite the successful artist in his own right.

This year though, I decided to watch on Tuesday's since when really nothing is on, and I kind of needed the laugh. The men as you know perform on Tuesday. And quite frankly, they suck. They suck so bad, I find myself laughing and yelling at the television, especially when that kid Sanjaya, whatever performs. The most frightening aspect of that guy is how each episode he purposely or not, I don't know resembles his sister more and more. I swear he had foundation on. And if I wasn't blind, I swear he was wearing hoop earrings while he trainwrecked through that Diana Ross he was singing. I hope there is some agreement in my anger regarding this.

The other thing is I fell down a flight of stairs earlier this week. I was taking clothes down to the basement and...bam. I fell. And I've hurt myself pretty bad. My shoulder finally stopped hurting, however my back still aches, and my foot/toe, well...I jacked that up real nice.

What annoys me even more is the fact that when I had my wisdom teeth pulled a few months ago, I had some freakin' vicodin/oxycontion/painkiller extraordinare sitting here.

AND MY MOTHER IN ONE OF HER VISITS I DO BELIEVE THREW THEM AWAY.

Boy, am I pissed if she did.

And it snowed. There's a lot of snow outside, and I have to go outside with my dead foot and shovel. I am not paying some man older than me to shovel my yard. If it was a kid that lived on the block, yes, yes I would, but when you get 7 visits and 6 of them are grown men and one is a kid, who doesn't live near you, you rebel against the idea of paying a kid to shovel. So I'm off to shovel.

Yay.