Memo.

This morning I asked Leon to write me a check. We're reserving our reception hall today and the place needs a deposit. So I went to an ATM on the way to work and began to deposit the check. I took a good look at it, just to make sure everything was right. He's spelled my name wrong before, if you can believe it. So I notice a note in the memo portion of the check. It reads: Sensual masage. Which I think is supposed to mean: Sensual massage. That guy is too funny. I deposited it anyway.
Then I bought three lottery scratch off tickets. Just in case, you know, I might win $10,000 or something. But they were all loosers, because that would just solve too many problems for me.

Perhaps I can console myself with some shopping tomorrow.

Foul mood.

I am of short patience today and easily crossed. Look out. This morning my sleep was interrupted at least three times.

Act 1: Sleepy arm - 3:00 AM.

Leon: "Mrrrrrggghhhhh!"
He stands up and faces the window.
Niki: "What's the matter? What's wrong?"
I'm panicked.
Leon: "My whole arm is asleep."
He starts to walk to the bathroom.
Niki: "Where are you going? Leon? Wha....?"
Leon: "I'm going to the bathroom!"
Niki: "Sorry."
I lay my head back down and falls asleep until....

Act 2: Cat scratches door - 4:00 AM.

Cat at the door: "Scratch scratch scratch scratch scratch scratch."
Leon taps me on the shoulder.
Leon: "Wake up, she's scratching."
Me: "Mmmmmmf."
I blink several times to moisten my contacts. I can't see a damn thing. I stand up and grab the spray bottle of water I keep on my night table for this purpose. The cat hears me and runs to the kitchen. I lay back down and try to sleep untill.....

Act 3: Cat scratches again - 4:30 AM.

Cat at the door: "Scratch scratch scratch scratch scratch scratch."
Leon: "Hey, the cat."
Me: "Why is she doing that?"
I stand up and tip toe to the hallway with the spray bottle. This time I let loose and I think I got her good. I lay back down and slept until 6:30 when Leon insisted that I wake up.

What if I wanted to sleep in?

And now I'm cranky.

Sitting in a car, for too long.

This weekend we drove to Southern California. I was reminded again of why I don't like it. There's no chance in hell you can live there without a car. Everything is spread-out, dirty and the smog is everywhere. And it's depressing as all hell. The air of the failed dreams of the entertainment industry is so thick you can step in it. In fact, I almost did. Getting out of the car outside of Ameoba on Sunset, I nearly stepped in a giant pile of diahrreha.

I hate it there.

The next 4 months will be hell on earth.

The longest and worst season in Sacramento has begun. The heat. I say this every year, but I get to where I take the heat and the discomfort that comes with it personally. "How can you do this to me, heat? Why has the delta breeze left me? Damn you apartment, I wish you had a real air conditioner!"
The only tolerable months to live here are January - mid May & mid-October - December. I'm sure I'll get through it, though I am really worried about my cats and how they're going to handle it. Last night they flopped around like ragdolls in response to the 90 degree weather. I hate to see them suffer through the 100 degree days. I think this is the year we shave the fat one.

Cubiertas

I wish I could speak better Spanish. I went to a Spanish language meeting last night. It was interesting. I found my listening comprehension better than I thought but my speaking skills were still at a beginning-intermediate level. My Spanish final is on Friday and I'm feeling confident that I will ace it. I've already enrolled for the Fall Spanish 1B course. I hope that one is more challenging. I did some research and came to the conclusion that I'll be done with school in 2005. I will graduate with an associates degree in liberal studies and become the first person in my immediate family to hold a college degree. And I'll finally be able to wash my hands of the whole thing.

Repetition.

I'm loosing faith in my fellow humans again. Even when I know not to expect anything short of disappointment from some people, it always surprizes me when they do disappoint.

Straight Chaka.

I'm rocking a Frida brow and my high school graduation hair. They're both long and wavy. But not for long. Like farmers shorn the sheep for the summer, I am finally getting an eyebrow wax and hair cut just in time for sweltering weather. By June 7th I'll be back in order.

Do what I say now.

I get really impatient with impatient people. Here in this office, there's this guy. We'll call him Paul. He can't wait for anything. A meeting was once too long, so he got up and paced around the room, agonizingly rubbed his temples, sighed loudly until the meeting was over. He'll call out over the cubes "hey, who distributes Gillian Welch?" A normal person would just look it up in our database system, not Paul. He just can't wait. I get cross with him and it shows. He doesn't ask me for help anymore. Not only does he not have any patience, but he also has no promo ettiquite. I've written about this before. An unspoken rule is that you don't ask for other people's promos so that you can give them to your friends. You may ask occasionally for some one elses promo, if it is for yourself and it's something that you really want. One's promos are one's bidness. Furthermore, you don't brag about it to your vendors. It's just not cool to tell your vendors that your giving their promotional materials to people (his friends) that would normally buy the product, boosting sales. It's also not cool to tell them or anybody else that you are abusing your company discount by purchasing several copies of the same CD to sell to your friends at a discounted price.

I bite my tounge, but not my typing fingers.

I am going to kick you in the head nine times.

Sometimes I wonder if I'm getting lamer as I get older. Fuddy. Duddy. I've been thinking about live music lately, local and not local, but mostly hardcore bands. There's this person I know of, who believes that a show is not a good show unless there's nighttrain involved or somebody gets kicked in the head. Here's my dillema: While I consider myself fairly open minded about music and I've been to all kinds of shows, I just don't have any personal interest if the members of a band feel the need to inflict violence on an unsuspecting audience (mainly me, who would be standing up front, not because I'm cruising for a beating, but because I'm short and I like to see who's playing what and how). I guess I just don't understand it. If bringing down the comfort barrier is part of a band's act, then that's fine. Just don't aim for the tiny girl in the front, go for that beefy guy who's begging to be smacked in the face with the tuning pegs. So the question remains, am I a total bummer if I choose not to go to a show because I think I'm going to be hurt at it?


I'll kick you in the head and then I'll kick you in the head and then I'll kick you in the head.

Cake.

I just ate a few bites of chocolate cake. I hated it, but I kept eating it anyway and now I feel sick. Don't worry, I'll bring you the rest.

Sick day.

I was sick all yesterday with a nasty cold. With no TV to entertain me, I was left to finish the book for this weekend's book club meeting, "Norwegian Wood." Two words: bor. ing. Although I finished it, I can't say I enjoyed it much. Nor did I enjoy the other book I read by this same author, that was also about a mysterious woman and the man who is obsessed with her. Okay, I get it already.

Homies.

I love my Homies. I've got a few of them here at work. I can pretend like I'm having a miniature family reunion at southside park. Except I'm really in an office, with a bunch of white people and there's no fruit punch, or bbq'ed corn on the cob. Once at Carolina's I got a small bag of plastic chihuahuas out of their Homies machine. It was really kind of magical.

Be nice to me.

I gave blood today. Really, this time it worked. No pierced nerves, no skin-clogged needles and hardly any discomfort. But there was that part at the end where they pinch off the tube and there was this really creepy pressure sensation on my vein and I thought my vein would burst. But it didn't.

I'm thoroughly okay and I saved three lives in the process.