07 January 2007

my fake plastic love

ugh. i'm not well today. i'm sort of wishing i'd hung on to that common sense last night because i think i was moderately out of control. i'm paying homage to the white porcelain god today for my ignorance yesterday. but it was fun while it lasted. i've been good. i deserve a retard badge every once in a while, right?

so. i'm not one to kiss and tell, and frankly, i couldn't tell you even if i wanted to, but here are the highlights. i got new jacket. i got a stalker. i got free drinks. i got some poor girl beat up. i think i broke up some couple or at the very least got them into a big fight. i danced for hours. cranberry and vodka, cherry bombs and i love pickle juice. i heard the line 'you have beautiful eyes' so many times i could puke. i saw whitney j, i haven't seen her in years and she no longer wants to beat my ass, that's nice. i made up for the new year, in fact i'm covered for the next four or five new years. i heard the cops were there as i was leaving and i'm not sure why but i was smart enough to know that my condition wouldn't earn me any brownie points and bob already said he wasn't bailing me out of jail. nigel and snackmaster bob took some other guy home and i was left to wander the parking lot looking for some guy's car when someone i knew found me and gave me a ride home. nigel was afraid she'd lost me for good, she left me like 14 voicemails in two minutes, and would have to explain that to my mom at work on monday. so how was your weekend? well, i lost your daughter. how was yours? hehehehe.... it was fun. but my head hurts and i prolly shouldn't have had a cheeseburger for lunch today; at least i should have picked off the pickles.

so. today i got my hair colored. it's dark. dark. dark. really. i like it. now i don't look pale and sickly i look pale and dramatic. it's a change. it's just hair. so i'm talking to courtney, the wonderful gal that does my hair, and we're discussing life and whatnot, and she's like, oh dear. and that's not something you want your stylist to say, ever. but she's like, you've got a grey. i freaked. seriously. i made her pull it so i could see it. and there it was, a little curly grey hair. omg. i wanted to ask them to put it in a baggie so i could take it home but she already thinks i'm a weirdo because i never care what she does to my hair, i'm just like, i dunno, make it do something different or make it a different color or whatever. but no, there it was, a grey hair. ugh. i'm getting old. i'm going to be 27 in february you know. yikes.

i have a bruise on my elbow. i don't know how it got there.

i go back to work tomorrow. i hear the rumor mill has been working overtime. ought to be interesting. i wonder when my last day will be. i got the nicest phone call from ua sherry today. she called me from home just to find out what's going on because apparently there are several different versions out and about and to tell me good luck and she's going to miss me. i like sherry - most people are afraid of her or hate her because she's a bitch but i get along with her. i'm going to miss so many people i could cry. this is like the one and only job i've ever really enjoyed, and having said that i don't know if it's the job that i enjoy so much as it's the people that i work with, you know? i mean, most of them. marty jones can fuck off and die a painful public, humilating death and that's okay, and there's a few others that i can live without, but for the most part i really like them all. and most of them have really comfy sofas and don't mind dragging my stupid ass around late at night when i need pancakes and a place to sleep.

table is gone. it really feels like i'm moving. it's a little strange. i'm realy not good at change, i kind of like things routine and normal and steady and this time i don't have anyone to blame this on but me, because i could have easily said no when gran massa champ started planting the seeds in my mind about going back to school. i guess some little part of me thought i could use a serious upheaval because that's what i'm getting. i can't do things small, you know? i have to go all out. i can't go to drake and move to dsm. nope, that's not dramatic enough. i guess that's just how i am. my biggest fear out of this whole thing is failure. that and not knowing. i've never done anything quite like this before. right now, i don't know anyone, i don't know where anything is, i don't know if i have a job, i don't even know if i could find my way home. so what if i get there and i hate it? what if i get really depressed and all i want to do is lie in bed and stare at the ceiling and not leave the house? what if i can't handle school? what if i fail and i have to come back to dsm and everyone will know that i failed? that's what i fear. i'm terrified of this whole thing. but. but. i'm in too far to back out now. and i think that all of this came together as such for a reason. it's beyond my control. besides, i can't live my life being afraid. so i'm done.

i had a couple of liberating moments this weekend. one. i threw away four of the five boxes of bandaids in the bathroom medicine cabinet. i'm not graceful in most uses of the word, but i was never the accident prone idiot in the house. as such, i tossed out about 30$ in bandaids. it felt nice. two. because i couldn't find a sticker for my car that just said the word 'fuck' and because it probably wasn't appropriate to put such a sticker on uugof, i asked roberto to remove the b29 from my back window. i'm not much of a supporter of the b29 anymore. in fact, i chuckled to myself as i watched the godfather piece off the car this weekend and make back about half of what he bought it for if my memory serves me correctly. naw, i don't chuckle. maybe cackle, but not chuckle. i'm not one for chuckling.

okay boys and girls. i'm tired and i have things to do.
love,
superfreakinhungoverjanel

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