Boogity boogity shoo
Sunday, May 18, 2003 - 09:16 p.m.

Went back down to NY/NJ for Rob's graduation. It was a time. Not all good, but not all bad either. In fact, mostly good. I'm really happy for him, being a college graduate and all, even if right now it's not paying itself off, I'm sure it will in the time to come. (Now, if only I could convince myself of that.)

And now for my dissertation on reason no.3049 that I'm socially inept. I actually let other people's loud, obnoxious drunkenness bother me. I am such a prude. It could have just been tiredness at work, but I doubt it. My evening was more or less a wash because of the volume (both of audio, and of ridiculousness). Like I told Rob, if I wanted that kind of noise, I would have stayed home. To loosely quote someone: If you're reading this, it's (probably) not you.

The rest of the weekend was pretty much fine. I saw some people who I'll admit to enjoying the company of, and I met the most interesting lady. Saw Reloaded and had my face thoroughly rocked. Went to Benihana and ate until the near bursting point. Didn't stop to consider when I'd see any of these people (aside from Rob's family of course) again. Barely considering it now, and will probably cease to consider it in the near future. Why bring about undue stress? Oh, and I'm going to have to wrap my foot in gauze if I ever want to wear the sandals I got ever again. Ow, blisters, ow, pain.

And a special note to the person whose message I accidentally denied. If you're reading this, your message came through while I was typing, and in typing, I hit space, and hitting space apparently hit the "no" button. (As in, Accept this message? yes or no) Please IM me again!

Mice are nice,
G

Wednesday, May 14, 2003 - 12:14 a.m.

Conscious self	Overall self

Take Free Enneagram Test

News Tidbits
Tuesday, May 13, 2003 - 11:40 p.m.

I'll be in NY/NJ from tomorrow until Sunday.

My tummy hurts.

I love my new glasses. A lot.

Anyone care to recommend a book to read?

I am such a poser. You know you love it!
Wednesday, May 7, 2003 - 08:05 a.m.

Boy, you such a beginner
Openin' up fortune cookies,
Lookin' for a winner
I don't throw down like with brains like that
Electricity versus fat?
That ain't even fair
Boy, where your head at?

Rhymes weak like old perfume
Your lousy beats clear the room
And you know damn well
That if you follow smell
Of the party
It'll lead you straight to my house

Cause I be rockin' the house all night, all night
While you in your basement workin' it
Yeah we be party like this
All day and night
While you be struggling jus' to get your rhymes tight

Nevermind the backbeat
Just hit the street
You and your shit ain't got a seat
At my table
And if you're able
If you're that "old school"
Then say hi to Clarke Gable for me

Bitch, I guarantee you
Ain't no one wanna be you
With your phony bling-bling
And your backup girls can't sing
But if you follow that hot beat
Down onto my street
Then you'll be finding what style is

You'll see me rockin' the house all night, all night
While you in your basement workin' it
Yeah we be party like this
All day and night
While you be struggling jus' to get your stuff right

Queen Random Expells Pearls of Whateverdom
Tuesday, May 6, 2003 - 06:07 p.m.

Before I go on about my usual crap, my humdrum life, I'm going to go on about something I was thinking about earlier. Besides, my tea needs to finish steeping.

Apartments are sunshine to me. They're Whitney Huston lip-syncs on a tape from a big silver camcorder. They're the brown toy chest that's mostly empty 'cause it's all over the floor. It's Pink Floyd and Babs. It's falling asleep in the bathroom because I tried to be sneaky and watch TV from the hallway after my folks put me to bed. Apartments are having the older boy from upstairs over for dinner. And going upstairs to see their big screen TV in all its huge, grainy, 1980's glory. It's hanging out with the blonde girl who - at the ripe age of 5 or so - is already a "bad influence". It's a Tony the Tiger water bobber. Apartments are all those things and a lot more.

The "a lot more" is a great deal less tangible. It's my future, and my past. I daydream about the apartment to be. A one bedroom glory, with a tidy living room that speaks of someone with taste, and a bedroom brimming with stuffed animals and anime posters. A kitchen that's always clean, because I have just enough pots, pans, and dishes, and not one bit more. It's finally getting that espresso machine and fully developing the nasty caffiene habit I've toyed with my whole life. I've heard coffee is actually good for you, in moderation. It's the start of furniture that'll follow me around for entirely too long. It's the start of a heart-breakingly huge collection of plants, albums (vinyl and CD), books, and pointless, pretty, asiatic knick-knacks.

Anyhow, that was on my mind this morning. I could seriously go on in that vein for several pages, but I haven't made a new layout yet, so my front page is getting long in the tooth here, and I'm going to attempt some form of brevity until I change that.

My quest for glasses is nearly complete. I'll get the new ones tomorrow or the next day. I am so thrilled! I will honestly take a picture or two of myself once I've got those. Haircut or no haircut. They're purple, and plasticy, but not overbearingly so in either aspect. I really love them already, and I don't even have them. It'll be nice to have clean, new glasses. Also, because it was part of a deal, and because my grand total was going to be grossly expensive anyhow, I got prescription sunglasses. They're cute too. XD You don't even want to know how much I paid. I didn't have much choice in the matter, really. My prescription expires in 2 days. Zoiks! I didn't think it was that long ago. That would have been another 50-70$ if I hadn't gotten them done now. Insurance would have been nice, then I would have just had to pay for the frames. Which would have been soooooooo much cheaper. Bleh. I should have asked to see the frames in the cheapie bin. Then I could have rocked some super-legit Rivers Cuomo black plastic glasses, fo shizzy. Meantime, I re-glued my current ones, and I'm happy all over for the new ones. Squee! Pretty!

I'm putting out some more applications for stuff. Especially since I got a trio of rejection letters from Exeter Hospital. Fools. They don't know who they're missing. Ah well, their loss. XD I saw this ad for a barista at the most ~awesome~ coffee shop. I'm applying. Forget that I don't know how to run an espresso machine. I'll learn, dang it! That'd be so cool. Especially if I could get a library job and the coffee house job. Books and java... mmm....

I have plants. Huzzah! And I'm done.
G-G-Geeeeeeeeemoney!

Sometimes I'm okay, sometimes I'm even happy
Thursday, May 1, 2003 - 11:54 p.m.

I had a good birthday.

I want to thank everybody for their well-wishing, and Rob, Aaron, my Grandma, and my folks for all the nice things I got.

I'd write more, but I'm about ready to pass out. Consider this a "To Be Continued..."
G

ATTACK NANNER!
Thursday, May 1, 2003 - 07:08 p.m.

WEll hell.
Tuesday, April 29, 2003 - 11:01 p.m.

I'm writing this without my glasses on, at my regular distance from the monitor. I refuse to lean in to see. So you're getting this will any and all typos. And With no revisions, because revisions mean rea-reading what you wrote. My glasses are broke. I'm saving what little integrity they have left to get me to a lesn crafters or something tomorrow.

Oh no! You say. What happened? You ask. Well, here it is, quoted from a conversation that's taking place right as I'm writing this, using the same, over-proud, no-squint-and-lean-in policy. "I went to scratch by my eye, lifted them up at a slight angle, not all the way off, and the joint where the top part of the lens frame and the nose peice snapped open. The top part is now lifted off the right lens like a questioning eyebrow."

Happy birthday to me. How about a drink? I think maybe I could use one. It's things like this that give me guilt about the spending I do on myself that is not born solely out of necessity. I needed a pair of pants. I bought said pair of pants, pluss a set of sweats (zip up hoodie, and pants), a haltertop my big-boobed self has no business slutting around in, a shirt I like but have no reason to wear, two CDs that weren't even on my "must have" mental roster, way more novelty items than I care to mention being the last nasty, sinful thing on that list. I refuse to disclose the end tag on that. It's not bad compared to some people's shopping trips, but by my standards, I will go to hell for it. So tomorrow, let's see, what's on the menu? I have to go give the state and the sity about 40$ each to register my car, along with about 20 to inspect the monster, I have to drop I don't know how much to get new frames. I have to search like a bastard for a job, because otherwise I go no where and do nothing all summer. I want to go to ComiCon, but the more I look at it, the more pipe-dream-like it becomes. I hate money.

Buy me a lotto ticket, so I have more money to hate. Make it a winner, so I can pass that green evil around. So I can ease the petty burdens of my friends, my family, myself. A smidge here to go nuts with, a dab there to fix what needs fixing. All from a fun that I didn't break myself for. That's what's so ideal about won money. It doesn't feel like you're selling your life, sweat, and soul away to buy the nice things when it's cash you didn't give your time away to aquire.

I'm totally crazy. I don't really care. I've been reading Survivor by Chuck P. (Author of Fight Club, points to anybody who spells his name right, because I just don't feell like spelling it out right now). He's a good author. Anybody who can make me think without deliberately sailing over my head gets props. Intellectual stimuli with half the calories, if you will. I don't know whether that's ironiy or just sad. No matter, I suppose. There are worse things in this life, like broken glasses when you can't see two feet in front of your face without the world becoming fuzz.

If you don't like pessimism, then that's your problem, because it's who I am. I like to call it practicality, though. Maybe sour practicality, but practicality nevertheless. I can't wait to read this later and see all the inventive ways I spelled "practicality" while trying to do so at a normal pace without really reading it. It's sort of like typing blind, only more tortuous, because I can kinda see the fuzzy outlines of letters. Yeah, rah, stuff.

Tomorrow I have no excuse for not being an adult, woe is I.
Gia

patience fugit
Tuesday, April 29, 2003 - 07:47 a.m.
I was all prepared to be witty and share things, but you know what? Fuck it. I'm going back to bed for an hour or two.

Lo, I am full of gas and typos
Monday, April 21, 2003 - 05:44 p.m.

I dreamt about a really sexy vampire last night. Mrowr. That ruled.

Today, however, I'm feeling a little blah. I'm gearing up to quit my job, and I'm not really sorry about it. Hopefully they have someone they can rotate in. I saw a few applications come in while I was working, so maybe one of them can take my place rather fluidly. I mean, I was only there for a week, so anyone they call in will have about a week's worth of stuff to learn before it's all evened out. Whatever. It's a suck job for suck pay and I've lost my will for it. It's served it's purpose, and hopefully I picked up the slack for them a bit, too.

I was struck by an idea looking through the paper today. I saw an ad for cheap office space, and I thought: "I really should look into opening a comic book store." I have no idea if I'll follow through, but it's a nifty idea. I've got better job prospects than that, though, so that's not exactly my only fall back.

I really should have napped while I still could. Now I'm tired and I'm going to end up going to work that way, and then going to bed that way, and then waking up that way, and you get the idea. It's all poop.

I had some ideas to make this more interesting, but I've discovered I'm sleepy and I don't care anymore. I archived this page (pitas), but have no intention of changing the layout just yet. I'm a lazy bugger.

I bought a book the other day, I may actually read it! *Gasp!*

Eh, screw this, I'm sleepy.
G = apathy