I spoke with Mister ScareCrow last night, on the phone, and it has been established that when I come down to visit he and Miss Katie in New Orleans (did I mention I'm going to New Orleans? Well I AM!), I will refer to him as ScareCrow, and he to me as Washu. We just don't feel comfortable any other way.
You don't even want to KNOW what counterfeitfake's been calling me recently.
I just changed my mouse pointer to a fish, and it is bringing me even more joy that I thought it would.
That boy? That teddy bear boy at my work? He had to come into my cubicle the other day to ask me things about trees I hugged. I got so nervous!
I'm going to the bar for a drink or two, after work today. I like drinking when it is light out. I, uh, also like drinking when it is dark out. And when I'm alone. And when I'm hanging out. But I can't even think of that, now, because of the headache that bagel gave me.
I'm getting my hair cut tomorrow! I am excited about this! How silly of me! I mean, it's just a trim, really, I don't know why I am so hype, but I am. Oh, and it's at 9:30 am, so I really don't know why I'm hype. I'll catch a few z's in the chair as my hair dye dyes.
Nothing is going on this weekend, I think. You know what we should do? Drive down to D.C. See the cherry blossoms. Hang out on the mall. Seriously, I've always loved Washington. Maybe if I lived there I wouldn't anymore, but . . . just all those big monuments . . . it's silly I guess, and childish of me (but not childish like "bratty," maybe "childlike" I should have said?), but they just . . . make my heart full. Ha. Just marble. Silly. I wanted to go to Georgetown. They didn't accept me. Fuck them, I didn't want to be a stupid Liberal Arts major anyway. Maybe I could go to grad school in Washington? It's no Southern California, but it is a little warmer there, milder winters, anyway; and I'd still be driving distance from my parents, so my mom might not get too lonely.
Dammit, I was supposed to call her this week and I didn't. Oof, I am the Worst Daughter In The World.
Okay, so Ruth (the receptionist, and my closest work friend) just e/popped me to say that "no one else" is going out to the bar tonight, so she guessed we wouldn't go. She also tries to get me to go out sometimes saying, "but I'll be the only girl there!" I don't understand that. So? What do you think they're going to do, make out with you or something? Talk about sports the whole time? Being the only girl is a GOOD thing. I don't understand regular people, at all.
My eyes hurt.
New moon tonight, folks. Aren't there things that happen in April? I don't think I mean Earth Day, or Easter, or 4/20. Did Kurt Cobain die in April? On the 8th, right? Or was it the 18th? I remember Jason Zvi Gers yelling about it during "American Pie" . . . nevermind, it would take too long to explain. You know what I'm talking about, though.
My friend Nick, last night, said that I could move up to Vermont and live with him, and I wouldn't have to work. Just make him beef stew all the time. (Poof! He's beef stew.) And I guess have sex with him too, and you'll find no argument here. Nick is a sex-ay Latin Lover. Or so I hear.
So has anyone invented a teleportation device yet? Seriously, someone should get on that shit. I wish I had a lot a lot of money, with which to buy Stuff. There's so much Stuff I wish I owned. How . . . something of me. Materialistic. But there you have it. I want a fancy digital camera AND a fancy real SLR camera. I want both! And also TiVo. And a hovercraft. And a Teleportation machine. And PlayStation2.
Have these disconnected musings made a lengthy enough entry yet? Good.