I ACTUALLY YELPED. LOUD.

I don't believe I've ever yelped in a doctor's office before--but I did today. See, I've been having shoulder pain. And a lot of it. Last night when I was working out, I was on the butterfly press machine and I literally could not push the thing together--I didn't have the strength and it hurt so g.d. bad, I almost cried.

I called the ortho today--I couldn't remember his name, only that it started with a "Z" and it was Greek and he was hot. I stopped at the first 2 descriptors. Found the right guy and got in because he had a cancellation. When he was putting me through the range of motion tests, I yelped. A couple of times. He said, you must really hurt because I know how tough you are. Scheduled me for an MRI on Monday, I will find out Thursday if I need surgery. I told him--you know, this is really gonna eff up my softball season if I have to have surgery and he said--in a big way.

Then someone reminded me of something that made me laugh. A couple of years ago when I was in Mississippi on a girl's weekend with a few thousand of my best friends--someone wore ASSLESS chaps to one of the events. Now what went on in that woman's mind that she decided it was okay to show her fake tanned stretch marked ass. I can barely put mine in a swim suit and show it in public. No, I am not kidding. This really happened. Someone asked what they should wear to an event and my very good friend replied, "Anything, as long as it is comfortable. Except assless chaps." I could not agree more.

WHEN DID IT BECOME SOCIALLY ACCEPTABLE to go out in your effin' pajamas? This morning, bright and early, I went to Kohls and there was a woman in her pajamas and slippers--not shoes--slippers. First of all, it was like 25 degrees, but second of all and most importantly in my little mind--SHE WAS IN PUBLIC IN HER PAJAMAS!!!! I don't get it. I always put some type of real clothing on when I leave the house. Sometimes it's yoga pants, but only if I'm headed to volleyball (not true--I wear them other places too), but I always have CLOTHES and SHOES (or sandals) on.

Some of these people don't even comb their hair it looks like, so they are literally rolling out of bed and getting into their cars and driving to the store. You may think this is an isolated incident, but it isn't. Because 30 minutes later at Target--SAME DAMN THING! Have we really come to this in our society--that we can't even bother to shower and dress to go out in public?

And manners-don't even get me started. Okay, go ahead. I was going into Kohls and I was literally 3 steps behind this man, who doesn't even bother holding the door. I don't care that he didn't step aside and HOLD the door, but it's usually courteous to hold the door. I do it for people. Not only that, but there was an older lady with a full cart trying to get OUT the door and he didn't bother holding it for her either. I held the door open for the lady and I told her "It's obvious his mama didn't raise him right." I hope he effin' heard me.

THIS IS ED, the Most Wanted Dawg in Brighton. Freakin' little criminal. He's on house arrest until next Wednesday. I wish I had thought to put a little ankle monitoring bracelet on him--and set up a mug shot, complete with a number at the bottom and a ruler on the side showing how tall he was.

He looks vicious doesn't he? If you reach for him too quickly--he falls over and rolls on his back for a belly rub.

DEAR BRIGHTON POLICE DEPT AND STATE LAW MAKERS:

You all are a bunch of twits. And rude. The officer that called me at almost midnight on Sunday night--he was an a-hole. My 22 pound terrier bit me. BECAUSE I EFFIN' SCARED HIM WHEN I WOKE HIM UP! IT WAS MY FAULT! It's not like he is a vicious dog who needs to be chained on a 100 pound chain in my back yard. Yet (and here is where the dumbass law makers come in), because of a new law in Colorado, every dog bite must be reported to the Health Dept and the dog must be quarantined 10 days. What a bunch of crap.

The animal control nazi left a nasty message on my answering machine that even though I declined to press charges, she encouraged me to do so. What the PHUK!? Who am I supposed to press charges against? MYSELF? It was my fault and frankly, I think my sore fat lip and 2 hours in the emergency room is more than enough punishment. She also said that my dog would be under house arrest for 10 days and not allowed outside without supervision in case he bites someone else. Who is he gonna bite? I'm the only one who lives there and I don't intend to wake his ass up any more. I've got a fenced backyard and if someone is back there without me knowing about it--they deserve to have that 22 pound terrier wannabe hanging by his teeth off their ass.

I understand the intent of this law--THIS IS NOT IT! I am beginning to understand what the authors of the Constitution meant when they said that they advocated the overthrow of government when it exceeded its authority or whatever the exact language is.

No wonder the police department gets no respect. I used to volunteer with them as a victim advocate. Now I have no respect for them at all.

JUST SOME RANDOM CRAP

I have been thinking of. The first thing is--when I was sitting in the emergency room, bleeding on Sunday night, the doctor asked me "What do you do for a living?" I replied 'Safety Manager' and she started laughing. Now why the eff is that funny? Even safety managers bleed profusely occasionally. To be honest, I laughed as well. But just because I am in safety, doesn't mean that I am infallible to accidents. I'm just sayin.

My dog Elvis is the best dog in the whole world. He is loving and sweet with an occasional day of pissiness (he is a terrier after all). Last night, there was a hoot owl, who insisted on hooting. Elvis would bark--once--every time the owl hooted. Elvis finally went outside to carry on the conversation, which was irritating me to no end. One bark, 2 hoots. One bark, 2 hoots. It went on for about 15 minutes. Then the owl ran out of things to say. Now, this may not seem strange to you, but I have lived in my town for about 6 years and have never heard an owl at night. AND I don't have any trees in my back yard, so where the hell was this thing sitting?

Latest ex-PITA story--got an email detailing how HE had to refinance the house we owned together for 25K more than the original mortgage was. Well, he neglected to mention in this email that the reason he had to re-finance that much more was because HE bought a motorcycle and a blazer with the HEL credit. I didn't have anything to do with it. No, I'm not answering the email. I told you I was done. I didn't even really read the whole email because it just went on and on. blah blah blah.

PRESIDENT'S DAY--I'm home, but I shouldn't be. I don't technically have the day off, but I spent 2 hours in the emergency room last night due to an unfortunate accident and the doc says I have to stay home til I stop bleeding. See, I forgot the old adage never disturb a sleeping dawg or sleeping baby. I can tell you exactly why--cuz dogs bite when you wake em up and scare em. My sweet little Ed took a big ass chunk out of my upper lip, causing massive bleeding and a trip to the er. Once I got there, the place was packed, but it wasn't patients. There were about 30 people there for one patient. I don't know what was wrong with this person, but I can tell you that 30 people would not show up for me at 9 at night on an evening where the temperature was around zero. The only reason I dragged my own ass out of the house was because if I needed stitches--I wanted them to do it while the stitching was good, not if they had to trim off dead skin to make the stitching better.

Once I got in, the doc took one look and said, Normally we could stitch this up, but you've got a chunk missing and we just have to let it heal. BUT THE GOOD NEWS (whatever) is that the face is pretty forgiving and the lip should fill in okay. But we'll send you to a plastic surgeon just in case. So they cleaned it up, smeared it with Neosporin, gave me a damn tetnus shot and a scrip for an antibiotic and told me to at least take today off til it quit bleeding. The most disturbing thing is that they called the police dept to report the dog bite. That pissed me off. Then the effing police department called me at almost midnight to tell me that they would call me tomorrow (today) for a report. I told them that a report wasn't necessary, that it was my own dog and that I was at fault. The officer was a real ass so I hope that the animal control officer is a bit more reasonable.

On the other hand, I made more cookies this weekend. The snickerdoodles are so good, they would make you weep.

I'M IN A STRANGE MOOD TODAY.

Half my brain wants to be a big bitch and hang up on people--or call them if they are not calling me and hang up on them. The other half wants to be my usual compassionate, sweet self. I'll wait until you quit laughing.

Last night, one of the most bizarre things ever happened to me. I am putting together a care package and I went to KMart to purchase "Animal House"--you know, the movie with John Belushi? It happens to be a favorite of the receiver of said package. I GOT CARDED!!! I almost fell on the floor dying of laughter. What the HELL?! Who ever got carded buying a damn movie? And I look like I'm over 18. You will have to trust me on this. Way over. But not that far, so don't push your luck. I can't wait to write the card. "Dear . . ., I hope you appreciate the fact that I was carded and humiliated in KMart trying to buy this movie. It's a good thing I had my id with me because there is just no way in hell that I would be able to convince this rocket scientist that I am over 18."

Got grossed out last night--this was after the Kmart incident. I am playing volleyball on Thursdays and they called me to play last night. The woman said "I've got a shirt and everything for you" Cool. Got there and she had to get the shirt from a guy who already had it on and he was a sweaty dude. And what ever cologne he had on had permeated the shirt. Maybe it was B.O., I don't know, but it stunk and I was really glad when I got home and got the sucker stripped off. ewwwwww. I like this team I play on. They are decent and they are all nice people. We won all 3 games last night.

I have a date this weekend, but don't look for details. He's too nice to make fun of. I don't think it will go anywhere. I've been spoiled by recent experiences with men I really like, but it will get me out of the house for a couple of hours.

Now then--what to do about this hanging up thing I've got going on in my brain. I know--I'll call the ex--pita and tell him that if he would have let me use all the deductions for tax purposes and split the deduction with him, he would have about 1500 extra. I got an email from him that he broke even. Sounds to me like he got what he deserved--nothing.

I SUFFER FROM SITUATIONAL TOURETTE'S.

I just KNEW there was a name for it! Usually, I just mutter "oh did I say that outloud?" But in some situations, situational tourette's is a much better excuse. A little background story: In August, I was at a national conference. There is a man that I call the Groper. I despise this man. He starts off the conference okay, but about a day into it, he is entirely too handsy/familiar with my body parts. If I LIKED him, this might not be as much a problem as it is, but I hate his ass, so therefore BIG effin' problem.

I didn't start out with bodyguards there, but one night I was explaining to one of the guys I hang out with what the Groper was doing to me. He did NOT believe me. I even DEMONSTRATED what was going on. Guy #1 said well, I kind of like it. Yeah--BECAUSE YOU LIKE ME! The other guy I was hanging with was in the bathroom and the Groper came up to me and well, groped me. Guy #1 couldn't believe it and when Guy #2 got back--Guy #1 explained it in agonizing detail. At that point, I acquired 2 body guards. And really really good ones, at that. And they recruited MORE body guards for me just in case they weren't around. By the end of the week, it was fairly obvious what was going on and evidently, the Groper complained to another friend that he was pissed because these two guys were always around.

Ok--now the situational tourette's tie in, at a recent professional meeting, the chairman of the board was talking about an award that the Groper won, not mentioning the Groper by name, but Bodyguard #1 was in the meeting and mouthed "YOUR LOVER" to me. I immediately gave him the finger, albeit behind a piece of paper so that he was the only one who could see it. Come on--he knew what was going to happen. I'm already panicked about this year's conference. I hope I can count on my bodyguards again. Well, at least the one. The other will be in Iraq. I may have to hide in my room the whole time.

My ex is a real dickhead and one of my emails this morning told him that. He actually had the effing nerve to email me that if I couldn't be nice in my reply, I shouldn't email him anymore. Well, g.d. if he would give me the information I need, I would not have to email him at all. I don't think he is very smart.

Speaking of not smart, I was having lunch in Florida with a group of my colleagues and this MORON came up to the table next to us and proceeded to pull up his shirt and show his sunburned whalesque stomach to the ladies sitting there, and blamed his fair skin on being "Irish". First of all-DUDE, I'M EATING HERE. Second--one of the guys I was eating with said, "Don't blame it on being Irish, blame it on being a DUMBASS"

Methinks someone else suffers from Situational Tourette's as well.

I'M DYING HERE!!

The radio station is playing Valentine wishes from people--really very nice sentiments--and one of the dj's just hit the barfing noise button. BWHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAA!!! I'm sorry, but that is just funny to me. I was never really into this holiday, this year even less so because of the bullshit the ex-PITA is pulling on me and I'm not one to make fun of people in love, but the puking noise actually made me laugh out loud. I'm sick. That's just all there is to it.

Besides, I got a Valentine kiss from my two best boys this morning--Elvis and Ed. They leave the wrong kind of chocolate in the back yard, but I digress. They take up too much of the bed and Ed snores like crazy, but they don't EVER piss me off. Well, they do, but I get over it pretty quick because they don't do it to be mean.

If you celebrate it--Happy Valentine's Day. If you don't--Happy Day before Spring Training starts.

IN ABOUT 48 HOURS

My life will be complete once again. That's right, people, pitchers and catchers will be reporting for spring training on Wednesday and my Pudge will be back behind the plate, right where he is supposed to be.

Frankly, I hope Pudge shows up with a little more weight than last year because I prefer my Pudge with a little more pudge than he had last year. There's nothing more exciting to me than the big play at home where Pudge is blocking the plate. Like in the 2003 playoffs where JT Snow from San Francisco had a big ass collision with my Pudge. I'll bet it hurt when he ran into that brick wall of Rodriguez. I myself--NEVER block any base when there is a play there. I'm kind of scrawny and if someone runs into me, I'm the one who's gonna be in some pain.

My rant of the day:

You know that infomercial dealing with colon health? The one with the cheesy guy with the mustache talking about everything that is left in your colon? I could do without seeing it ever again. It makes me want to gag.

THAT BITCH LIKE TO HAVE KILLED ME

I'm talking about the racewalking one who was hot on my heels the entire effing 5K today. Usually, I go all out the first mile (10:46 minutes thank yewww) and kind of slack the second mile and then pick it up the third. Well, there was no slacking for me today thanks to the racewalking bitch behind me. She got out ahead of me to start and I just keep my same pace. I passed her before the quarter mile was up and stayed ahead. But I actually had to work at it today and I don't like that one bit. It didn't help that I had absolutely no training this week and it really didn't help that I haven't weight trained in 2 weeks (my gym closed down with no warning, but that is a whole other rant). I finished in 34.35--pretty close to last week, a little faster. The cool thing about this race is that my entry fee was paid (thanks to placing in another race) and I won a $20 gift certificate for being first.

One of my dear dear friends asked me WHY I did this. She was giving me crap about not living with the Pita any more and yet, I was still escaping my house on the weekends. But that isn't really why I do it. My simple answer is that it gets me in really great shape for softball. I play with a bunch of 20 somethings and since I am a 40 something, I need a little bit more conditioning than they do. I am the fastest girl on the team and racewalking does keep me in shape and by the time I finish with the season--next week--I've got some stamina built up. But the other reason is this: I do this for people who can't. I do this so I can think of people who are just in a world of shit right now and can't see their way out. I concentrate on them while I am racewalking and try to send some positive energy their way and hope they know that I see what they are trying to be or trying to overcome and that they know I will always be there for them. I try to send some love their way mentally so that they will know that in spite of the circumstances, they are loved. I walk for those people who think that they will never get out of hell, when I know they will.

I told my friend that I NOW know how they felt when I was trying to get to the point when I could actually physically leave the Pita. It is aggravating to know that it will be for the better, yet not be able to convince someone you care about that it is for the better. My friends were ready to KILL me by the time I finally made the decision to leave. It's like you get up one day and say, I can't do this anymore and more important--I DON'T WANT TO!! I was ready 5 years ago and I didn't do it. I was really ready 2 years ago and didn't do it. It finally got to the point that I wanted to kill myself (literally) and I got a phone call from someone who had been through hell in Hurrican Katrina and she grabbed my hand and pulled me back from the depths. That's what I want to do when I racewalk. Send enough of those thoughts to the people who need them that I can grab their hand and make them see that they need to come back from the depths.

I've got one more race next week and I will be racing for not only me, but the ones who can't.

LETTER TO THE EX PITA.

Oooohhhhh a double entry today. I really really hate my ex-boyfriend. I thought we had the taxes straightened out, but oh no, I got this email from him. There are several inaccuracies here, mostly his spelling and grammar, but I would like to point out that I am NOT 48. Jesus, I lived with him for 7 years and he doesn't know how effing 0ld I am. What follows is the actual email and then the response that one of my friends prepared for him, which I am so sending.

Actual email from ex PITA:

"I know I said I wouldn't bother you any more until you made the first move (and I know you wouldn't have because you have been avoiding something through out this whole thing) but now that my head is on straight I feel like a fool continuing to be the nice guy. I didn't owe you the courtesy of letting you in on the taxes, you may or may not have rights to file them using the
1098 #'s. I never heard anything from you until tax time. We were done when you signed off on the house.

You were completely inconsiderate of my feelings through this whole thing, all you thought of was your self and wanted me to just fucking deal with it. You react and act like a spoiled rotten 48 year old.
(I feel bad for your parents, they are good people) I could have been just as hateful as you and said just as hateful things but I'm a better person then you.
Chances are pretty good that you were having an affair so that makes you a lire and a cheat, I hope you can live with that.
I'm filing the taxes today and sending them today, I am also going to call the IRS and let them know that someone will possibly file using the same 1098# that will red flag either you or both if us. I don't need your help, we'll just let the IRS sort it out. Money has never been a big thing to me.

It's also ridicules what you said about Jack and taking me to court, Grow up................."

My response, soon to be sent:

Dear Asshole,You're so right. I was avoiding this for fear of hurting your precious feelings. You claim that I wanted to avoid the situation and didn't want to talk to you. Listen to yourself you whiny titty baby. Yes. I made a choice. You are right. I am having an affair. An affair with someone that I've known and loved for a very long time but while I was with you, I denied myself that love.I fell in love with myself. You can convince yourself otherwise all you want but I know two facts. I don't love you any more and my life is better off without you.So play your vidictive little games. Speaking of growing up and living with situations, you seem to be doing a great job with that, you manipulative freak. Deciding to try to ruin my financial stablity because you're mad that we broke up shows a real level of adulthood that I could never aspire to.I would tell you to buy a clue but I heard they are all out of your size. So why don't you just phuk off.

Damn--it could be a really good weekend. He's an effin' psycho because just before I received the first email--he sent me pictures of his dogs. Can you believe this shit? Someone told me that I have shown remarkable restraint in just not killing him. And I do believe he falls into that category of men who need killing.

THE POP TART THEORY

Every time I go to my professional organization's quarterly board meeting, I swear I learn shit that I wish I'd never known. About people that I then have to spend 8 hours in a meeting room with. Of course this is funny shit and worth repeating. The first thing I learned is that guys are REALLY proud of themselves in the morning. Then I learned that they would appreciate a heated toilet seat--something about shrinkage hurts?

Then I learned that someone likes to get the paper nekkid in a hotel and really doesn't give a crap about who sees him. My dinner group asked only that he not bend over if we are in the general area. This same guy also related that he was the only unneutered male in his home. His wife was with us and I, in fact, questioned whether or not this was really true. He related the story about his male cat who got declawed and "deballed" all in the same day and how he was limping around (the cat, not the guy) and couldn't decide what to lick first. This guy also told us that if he every showed up with no fingernails and a sore ass, we would know what happened to him. I digress.

The most important thing I learned was the Pop Tart Theory. This theory was presented by the only other single woman in the group and here it is: If you have someone "over" and you don't want them to stay (because evidently if you fix them breakfast, they won't leave), keep a basket of pop tarts by the door and hand 'em one on their way OUT. "buh bye--thanks for coming, here's your pop tart".

And evidently, there are RANKINGS as far as pop tart flavors go--one of the participants in the conversations felt that if he did a really good job--HE should receive a brown sugar cinnamon pot tart. I suggested that because the strawberry milkshake tart tastes like ass--that would be for well, not such stellar performance. It's best if you keep said basket by the door becasue then you can keep the flow moving forward. You don't want it to stop once it starts because if you have handed out the strawberry milkshake tart, you definitely don't want THAT one lingering around any longer than he (she) has to. I should have handed the ex-Pita that strawberry milkshake tart a long time ago. I can also think of some that have EARNED the brown sugar cinnamon tart as well.

My point-and there is one--is that given my recent dating experiences, I will not be buying ANY pop tarts ANY time soon. It just isn't worth it.

Ahhhh VALENTINE'S DAY is rapidly approaching. For all you men out there--it means you have 11 days to not suck. Women--it means--if you don't have that special someone in your life--you too can go buy a g.d. box of Godiva and eat it all yourself. Which I highly recommend.

I, myself, don't really give a crap about the actual day. I haven't had a really good Valentine's Day for a long time, so it's basically been relegated to "just another day" in my world. And I'm okay with that.

The ex-pita (this is how smart HE was) gave me a diamond ring the day BEFORE Valentine's Day one year. A diamond solitaire. Y'all know what that means. You also know that I never thought enough of him to bake him cookies, so why would I even CONSIDER marrying him? Well, the bizarre thing is that he never ASKED the question that typically goes along with a diamond ring. He just said--it's a token of my affection. Well, okay. At least I didn't have to say no. I wore it for awhile, but I'm just not a ring person. Maybe I would be for the RIGHT man, but for him, not so much. And besides, people would ask when I was getting married and I would get weird looks when I said "I'm not getting married".

It did come in handy when I was traveling a lot. It kept a lot of jackasses away from me. Wearing an actual wedding ring doesn't, I've heard. But an engagement ring does. Maybe because they think that a woman who is just engaged isn't as likely to stray as a married woman.

Back to Valentine's day--guys--here's some hints: Do not get crotchless panties for her--unless she normally wears them. Same with the bras that have no boob covering and just pasties, unless again, she is into those. Godiva chocolate is ALWAYS a winner. Don't eat any of it yourself. It is hers. Gift certificates to spas would be appreciated. If anyone were to actually think of me on Valentine's Day, I would like a letter explaining what I mean to you, Godiva Chocolates, which I might share with you, a CD that you created, a picture of us--see it doesn't have to be all that extravagant--but I guess it'll have to wait until next year. But I'm okay with that because my expectations are non-existent this year and besides--my Valentine gift this year is that pitchers and Catchers, namely Pudge Rodriguez, report to Spring Training on Feb 15 and that, my friends, is the best gift ever.

And PS--note to self--I'm telling this damn group that schedules meetings the week BEFORE Spring training starts an hour away from said meeting place to schedule the DAMN MEETING DURING SPRING TRAINING NEXT YEAR! Sheesh.

IT'S JUST NOT NICE TO WISH THAT SOMEONE WOULD GET HIT BY A TRUCK, now is it?

But if my ex doesn't knock his poor me act off, I'm gonna start doing just that. I was over this crap 2 years ago. Granted, he didn't have nearly as long to process as I did, but he still doesn't get it. He is mean and nasty in his emails and fails to understand why I don't want to maintain a friendship with him. WELL DUH?!

Here's the list:

He was jealous--over nothing. I am an extremely loyal person and never once thought about having an affair, even though he accused me numerous times of it. One of which was on our "save the relationship" cruise when he accused me of flirting with the waiters, who were young enough to be my sons.

He sat on his ass. I do this myself occasionally. He did it all the time and asked when dinner was gonna be ready. I eventually quit cooking.

He was always late.

He didn't do any of the errands. He DID clean, but only because he criticized me once and I just quit doing it.

He was a nag.

He never felt well, but he never did anything about it.

His friends were all drunks and not very funny ones.

He hated that I played softball, volleyball and racewalked.

He hated that I loved baseball so much.

He hated that I spent time with friends.

I don't quite understand why he wants to "save" our non-existant relationship. I'm someone else's perfect person--not his. Because he sure wasn't mine.

If you don't know what you want, how are you gonna get it?

SOME PEOPLE ARE LIKE SLINKIES: Not really good for anything, but bring a smile to your face when you push them down the stairs.

I just read that this morning and I think it is the funniest thing I read this week. Someone pointed out that it applies to my ex-PITA and I couldn't agree more. Some people are just so pathetic, they piss you off because they are on the same planet. He is one of those people to me. During the breakup from hell (which actually took place 2 years ago, but didn't physically happen until last summer), he actually told me that he had been miserable for a long time and wanted to split the sheets much sooner. But when I actually said I was moving out--he went off the deep end and started the "I love you's" and I just want you to be happy crap. Okay--if he was so miserable--why didn't he just leave and make it easy for me. Then I would have been HAPPY!

I just got a couple of emails from him telling me that (and I'm paraphrasing here) he was screwing me out of my tax refund this year, but all he ever wanted was for me to be happy. I did send back some rather pointed thoughts, but at least I refrained from saying "Well, it was the best screwing I ever got from you."

All I've got to say about that is--Karma will bitch slap him when he least expects it. I also told him that I would be happy to take the dog away from him that I possess ownership papers for--my name only on them. That was a mean thing to say, but whatever.

Getting back to the fact that I love my life a lot more now that I don't have to see him at all. It is really a nice thing to go home, workout, change into very unattractive sweat pants and sit your ass on the couch until it's time to go to bed. Only because I did that LAST night, I have to go home and work on Valentine cards tonight and clean my house so that my new dog sitter doesn't have to put up with a dirty house when she is sitting my brats last week.

I'm looking forward to going to Orlando. It's business, not pleasure, but I'm sure I can find some fun at night. Not looking for trouble though. Had enough of that to last me for awhile.

A quick snarky note regarding Idol--WHY OH WHY do people return to audition when they've been told that they SUCK!? Like growing your hair out is gonna change your voice? And I loved the psychic that said she didn't feel like sharing her prediction about Idol this season--well, here, I feel like sharing my prediction about her. She will always suck as a singer and her skills as a "manager' really aren't that good either. Oh yeah, and she's not that accurate as a psychic either.