>Jolly Roger run up the mast.
I'm the star player here in the office, and I look fabolous. Not fabulous, but fabolous. Like, today I came in with my Jimmy Choo shoes on, my Gianni Versace red silk suit, my nails were done and my hair was fierce. I called a meeting on why there weren't any snacks for me yet, and promptly put Peterson on the case. I awarded my self the WEA account, called all my papers and told them to bite it, phoned Chuck Wagner and asked for every new release since the start of the first quarter and the entire Rhino back catalog. After that I got hungry so my driver took me to eat lunch at Biba's for pepper encrusted salmon and a nice glass of Tally pino noir, 1997. I ate exactly half of everything then yelled at the hostess for seating me at a banquette and left without paying. Remember, this was all before noon! I had my driver drop me off at the back door to my office, and I stumbled in. There was a lull, so I made some prank calls to the president of the company, but he wasn't in so I snuck in his office and spiked his secretary's coffee pot with khalua. And when that didn't satisfy me, I made an announcement saying there were free CDs in the lunch room. When everyone was gone, I hid their proofs behind the refridgerator. I got bored so then I tried dancing for a while on my desk, but the heel on my shoe broke, so I had my driver take me home. I was sleepy, so I just curled up and cuddled with my Italian Greyhound, Quetzl. It was a wild day.
Later.
Tuesday, October 09, 2001
Monday, October 08, 2001
>Not again.
I found out yesterday that my mom might have another brain tumor. For some odd reason I had forgotten about it until just a couple of hours ago. Now I feel totally wrecked, emotional and crazy. I'd rather be at home, and not here at this lame job. I'm going to call her when she gets back from her doctor appointments to see if there's any new news.
Later.
I found out yesterday that my mom might have another brain tumor. For some odd reason I had forgotten about it until just a couple of hours ago. Now I feel totally wrecked, emotional and crazy. I'd rather be at home, and not here at this lame job. I'm going to call her when she gets back from her doctor appointments to see if there's any new news.
Later.
>Your swingin' little hips just gotta be kissed.
Have I mentioned before how much I hate my job? Well, I do. I already have so much to do here, and when people are out it's just overload. It makes me feel overwhelmed and apathetic. I hate office chatter, sharing my weekend with people who don't care about the stuff that I do anyway. Like Take Back The Night on Saturday. We marched past the Faint show chanting, while the hip, pretentious 18 year old girls just stood outside smoking cigarrettes. I don't know why they wouldn't join us. They paid to get in, sure, but they weren't going to go inside anyway. Opting to stay outside and be seen. What a bunch of pussies.
We went looking at an apartment yesterday. A charming one bedroom on 21st street. Hardwood floors throughout, built in china hutch, black & white tile in the kitchen, 30's style sink and tile counter, painted yellow dining nook, washer & dryer and a lovely painted red floor in the bedroom. It even had a communal backyard for the whole little building. We started to get really stoked about living alone and fixing up our little space. Like all the furniture we could get to make it cozy, and not having to worry about roommates who's idea of decoration included army of darkness figurines in my china hutch. You know? So we maybe want to live alone and not with roommates, because we decided we only like to live with eachother. I don't think we will get that place on 21st street, but we'll keep looking.
Hey, my love handles are almost gone!
I keep thinking about how I once heard that people get sick because of how they choose to live. Not necesarily lifestyle, per se, but like someone who might get throat cancer because they never speak about the stuff that bothers them. What if the negative stuff just gets caught up and festers in your throat and makes you sick? Or like people who have heart attacks because their hearts have been broken so many times it becomes a defective organ. I wonder if anything like that would ever happen to me?
Later.
Have I mentioned before how much I hate my job? Well, I do. I already have so much to do here, and when people are out it's just overload. It makes me feel overwhelmed and apathetic. I hate office chatter, sharing my weekend with people who don't care about the stuff that I do anyway. Like Take Back The Night on Saturday. We marched past the Faint show chanting, while the hip, pretentious 18 year old girls just stood outside smoking cigarrettes. I don't know why they wouldn't join us. They paid to get in, sure, but they weren't going to go inside anyway. Opting to stay outside and be seen. What a bunch of pussies.
We went looking at an apartment yesterday. A charming one bedroom on 21st street. Hardwood floors throughout, built in china hutch, black & white tile in the kitchen, 30's style sink and tile counter, painted yellow dining nook, washer & dryer and a lovely painted red floor in the bedroom. It even had a communal backyard for the whole little building. We started to get really stoked about living alone and fixing up our little space. Like all the furniture we could get to make it cozy, and not having to worry about roommates who's idea of decoration included army of darkness figurines in my china hutch. You know? So we maybe want to live alone and not with roommates, because we decided we only like to live with eachother. I don't think we will get that place on 21st street, but we'll keep looking.
Hey, my love handles are almost gone!
I keep thinking about how I once heard that people get sick because of how they choose to live. Not necesarily lifestyle, per se, but like someone who might get throat cancer because they never speak about the stuff that bothers them. What if the negative stuff just gets caught up and festers in your throat and makes you sick? Or like people who have heart attacks because their hearts have been broken so many times it becomes a defective organ. I wonder if anything like that would ever happen to me?
Later.
Friday, October 05, 2001
>Talking Boo-boo.
When they sent my computer back to get Windows 2000, they left all the Microsoft games on it. 2000 sucks because they replaced Hearts with Pinball, and I only like Hearts. So now I'm forced to play Solitaire. When my game isn't going so well, I just pull down the Game menu and select Deal, to deal a new deck. Sometimes I wish that it would just let me deal with my life.
Later.
When they sent my computer back to get Windows 2000, they left all the Microsoft games on it. 2000 sucks because they replaced Hearts with Pinball, and I only like Hearts. So now I'm forced to play Solitaire. When my game isn't going so well, I just pull down the Game menu and select Deal, to deal a new deck. Sometimes I wish that it would just let me deal with my life.
Later.
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