February 2012
Also, I smell like patchouli. You say, “hippie”, I say…
I never did daddy/daughter dances, and for that I am truly thankful.
There's a few things you need to know about me:
I have started following Beyonce’s baby blog
I am drinking wine, eating potato salad, watching The New Girl.
I am winning at Friday nights.
I am awesome.
I just wanted to say it.
I miss my Dad.
So, it’s official. My fuck buddy has taken fucking off the menu, which leaves us as just buddies and me as just frustrated. I kinda need to get laid- and I’m thinking I want a boyfriend for that- y’know, so as to avoid the awkward hassle of finding a random hook up to take back to my mom’s place whenever I feel the need to bone.
Let the games begin.
The night has moved onto its second bottle of wine, a bar of chocolate, and The New Girl.
I am currently having a glass of wine, watching those razor commercials with Adrien Brody… and I’m just letting that goatee’d bastard melt away all the days woes. It’s working like a charm.
Okay, so this isn’t the worst thing in the world, I know, but it’s awfully unpleasant when I’m upset- like I am now- and its because I don’t feel attractive or appreciated and such, and when I talk to someone about it, all they do is sorta shrug and say, “Sorry”.
It makes me want to kick something and cry.
I really need to go home.
My jealousy of the new girl is starting to kick in. She really is awesome and I just love the hell out of her, but I’m awesome too and sometimes (re: all the time) I want someone to tell me that. I know I’m not cute and thin and smoothly snarky but… Dammit.
Fuck. Just fuck.
I am tired, sad, and hungry.
Today at work we got a new girl. She’s wonderful, a friend, cute little* thing and, of course, all of the guys here are tripping over themselves for her. I’m surprisingly not upset. I’m not jealous. This is a problem for me simply because my crews are all male and I’m having to battle larger than usual egos and shows of bravado just to get my job done.
On a similar note,...
I’m not a bitch. I’m not overly sensitive. I’m not being touchy. I simply object to you throwing your weight around when there’s really not a lot of room for all of that egotistical mass.
Fuck Oprah, The Daily Show is my reading list provider.
I am tired of watching music videos.
I am tired of trying to be grandiose.
Mostly, though, I’m just tired.
I’m glad I’m not unhappy, though, or self-doubting. That is awfully nice.
"I'm not complaining, I'm making conversation"
Nope, you’re complaining. Screw off.
I love that Catholicism doesn’t count as Christianity.
It’s like saying that pork isn’t a meat.
January 2012
… yay seamus…
Eating onion rings with turquoise nails makes everything better.
The fact that the Ramones are playing in the background doesn’t hurt, either.
I have tonsillitis.
At the moment, that is all.
I can’t seem to catch my breath and I’m having palpitations.
what the hell?!
Today is really fucking frustrating. We have a new system of timekeeping that’s extremely specific and has, count ‘em, two more steps than our last system, which means I’m having a helluva time figuring this out. Add the bonus stresses of the job- its the day of the show, y’all! I’m a woman and therefore not worth listening to, my show lead was late, again, but I...
I’m proud to say that I’m a Daiquiri Quinto groupie.
I’ll be making shirts post haste, y’all.
this is all I have to say...
I am not happy that Joe Paterno died. I am very sorry for his family and friends and I know that they will be honestly mourning him.
I am also not happy that so many people are sweeping the incidents brought to light only a few months ago under the rug. Death doesn’t clean slates… but it also doesn’t condemn.