August 03, 2002 :: 8:17 p.m.
money and violence and dirty priest sex
So I'm a little better now. The initial panic has subsided a bit, and I'm feeling like maybe all hope isn't lost. Adam sent me a bunch of links this morning, and I'm going to see if my mom will sit down and go through them with me when she gets home. Work kind of sucked, but hey, it's work, sucking is
its job. My roommate called - she sounds pretty cool, actually. Not as horrible as I'd feared, but usually that's the way it goes. I imagine things to be disasterous and the worst that they could possibly be, and they turn out all right in the end. She's bringing a microwave, and I'm going to see about getting a TV. Grandma will probably finance that little excursion, because that's the sort of thing she likes to do. She wants to take me school shopping, so she can take me school shopping. I need a printer and a TV and clothes and a bunch of other stuff. She doesn't have to be all god-like and provide me with all of these things, but a few would be much appreciated.
I finished Priestess of Avalon a little while ago. It was very good, if I may say so. And I may, because unless god smites my keyboard with a lightening bolt (though that sounds more like Zeus than good old Jesus) I'm free to type as I please. I'm going to start Hoochie Mama: The Other White Meat tonight, which makes my little book nerd heart go pitter-patter. I'm looking at all sorts of fun things on Ebay, most of which I've come to covet with the lust of a Catholic priest. Except that I'm not going to go around fondling the fun things, no matter how young and innocent they seem. I bid on the most drool-inspiring messenger bag I've ever seen tonight - it's red and has a little asian girl on the front. Ah! I could just die, dahling, I swear I could.
I'm actually in a decent mood for someone who got all rejected yesterday. I was in a serious hating mood last night and this morning. I made a mess of myself when I heard the news, cried, slept, cried, went to work. I was the crankiest bitch ever, no joke. I stated very clearly that if someone were to be sent home early, which someone always is, I wanted it to be me. I went on lunch at 1:30, and when I came back, what did I find? Crystal, punching out. I almost did a grab/twist/pull on Stewart's genitals, but I didn't because I generally like the boy. So I went into the back room and punched the door a few times. The door is steel. The door hurt my knuckles. Damn the door.
Basically, everyone who came into the shop and exhibited even a minute amount of happiness got the death stare. Because I was not in the mood to be surrounded by happiness. I was in the mood to be surrounded by blood and pain and death and screaming and miserable people. But Bagel Lovers isn't exactly Auschwitz like that, so out of luck, I was. It's just as well, I suppose, because misery breeds misery, and the last thing I need is more misery. Becoming impregnated by misery and giving birth to its gloomy child would do me very little good.
I have a feeling that IE is going to pull a fatal error on me soon (again), so I should end this before I lose it all. I'll write later, probably, since I don't have to get up early for anything. It's nice to not work on Sundays. Quite.
back & forth
Wait, there's more!
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