Fucked in the head

Now playing: If She Wants Me ~ Belle & Sebastian

Why does having a crush essentially, well, crush me? All the insecurities come to the surface, I second guess myself like crazy, drain my confidence, convince myself that any little looks I thought were shared were in my imagination [but if they weren't why can't I just act on it, gosh], basically talk myself out of the idea that anyone would be interested in me. 'Cause, like, why would they? All the while placing this person on a higher and higher pedestal when in reality I barely even know him. Gah.

Confession #2479

Now playing: Girl Anachronism ~ Dresden Dolls

Usually, I think people who show off their musical savvy, or ineptitude as it were, by constantly shoving into the faces of everyone who will listen Just! What! They've! Been! Listening! To! Lately!, to be pretentious and annoying. So self-loathing I am. Although I have discovered many a good tune by this method. Hmm.

But that is not my confession.

See, I had a bad day at work. I had to talk to crabby people. I had to instruct them on how to fix their big mess-ups, or 'unfortunately' [need synonyms for that word; I only said it 83 times today] let them know, there is nothing they or we or I can do at this point, except of course file an appeal which they will not get a decision on until Jesus returns to earth or hell freezes over, whichever comes later.
Up until today, I have talked to maybe one or, at most two, crabby people a day and have been able to cope with the stress by talking to a few pleasant and delightful people, or by sneaking to the bathroom to shoot up. Yeah, you get some strange looks but most of the soccer moms believe you when you tell them you're diabetic and it's just your insulin shot, silly, ha, ha, heh... Well, I left my gear at home today so I found myself sitting in the parking lot during my scheduled 15 minute break, muttering distractedly to myself with 4 cigs desperately hanging off my lip, because you just have to get at least a teensy bit high if you smoke enough right? Right? Oh, nicotine, such a disappointment you are to me.

But that is not my confession either.

I got home just exhausted and drained and headachy and laid down and went to sleep. And dreamed. Oh, how I dreamed.

Of the biggest, longest water slides you have ever seen, with the sweetest, warmest, gurgling [yes, gurgling], flowing water and people frolicking, the water enveloping them, as they slip down the slides, to only climb back up and slide down again.

So, yeah, if that's not hypersexual, I don't know what is.

...and never get out again

Now playing: [in my head] Oh to be in Love ~ Kate Bush. Thanks Joe!

So a few months back, the store where I was working at the time was visited by a young gentleman sporting a Starving Artists Movers t-shirt. I thought that was pretty snazzy. I asked him if he was an artist and was about to declare the utter coolness of a moving company of artists, when he rudely snapped, “No! That’s just the name of the company.”

I didn’t ask if they give discounts to starving artists needing moving services.

But, really, wouldn’t that be a great company to start? A bunch of artists who need day jobs but don’t want to work for The Man start their own moving company?

Besides, artists are just really good at moving stuff.

Yeah, I know I haven’t posted in for-ev-eh. My writing muse ran off with my art muse. They were sick of doing the work of 17 people.

I am sure there was a post from July 3. And now it is gone. I don’t remember it being offensive – you know, like offensive enough for Them to delete it. Must’ve been the ghost in the machine. Oooohhhh.

Office Space

I hadn't realized until today that I hadn't been in a big corporate breeding ground for quite some time. It's actually been about 2 years since I've been awash in a sea of cubicles. And it sucks just as bad. All the gray. Everything is gray. It's so institutional. And the cafeterias. Shudder. They just have this smell. Like Lean Cuisine Lasagna all the time. And I spent all day in a training room with four other trainees who were all 19.

When I got home I ran out and mailed my re-admit application to the university. There might still be time to get in this fall. It would still only be undergrad level and I don't know exactly what I'm going to study. But my god it's better than the cubicle farm.

First day of school

I start my new job tomorrow. Yes, I got a job. It's not the job I wanted. Actually, it's a temp job. I'm still hoping to hear about the job I really wanted so I can quit the temp job. But for now, I'm starting a temp job so I can stop being broke. It's not through a temp agency but a regular company that hires people on a temporary basis.

Anyway, I'm nervous. And it's silly.

Could my writing be any drier? Is it possible?

Untitled XII

I am wearing a purple t-shirt and black with purple trim and pictures of candy hearts panties. You know, those candy hearts that say things on them like "be mine" and "let's kiss." I wonder if you can get Lucky Charms panties. Because they are magically delicious.

Indeed I am...

You're Bettie Page!


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What a disappointment.

I am reminded today of how disappointing people are. Disappointing, unreliable, self-centered, phony. There was a time in my life, however brief, when I was completely self-reliant. I don't know how I did it. I realized it was a lonely existence and spent the past however long now trying to build relationships with people. Only to be let down time and time again. It's made me start to think again, if I'm going to be lonely anyway I'd rather just be alone.

Upside down / Boy, you turn me / Inside out / And round and round

Reese's peanut butter cups. They could be so good. The peanut butter filling is the most delicious delectable thing. It's kinda gritty, it's kinda salty. It's not sweet. Hardly at all. I could just take a fistful of that stuff and snack on it. But then they cover it in the most atrocious excuse for "chocolate" I have ever tasted. It's way too sweet, in like a million-billion-gazillion x infinity + 1 kind of way. It's kind of slimy. It melts too easily. There is no chocolate taste to it whatsoever. It's basically brown slimy sugar filled goo. A description that resembles shit. It probably doesn't help that I bite off all the "chocolate" so I can eat the peanut butter filling by itself. If I would eat the "chocolate" with the peanut butter, it would lessen the atrocity of the chocolate, but thereby sharply decrease the enjoyment of the peanut butter. So there is my dilemma. My solution is that I avoid them. Except yesterday.

«««

Happy [belated] Juneteenth Day. I have a question though. Juneteenth? It's the end of the Civil War, the end of slavery, and it happens to be June 19th. The best you can come up with is Juneteenth? It doesn't even make any sense.

««« ­

I went to a prospective place of employment today. I walk in to the human resources area, check in with the receptionist and head to the little waiting area to wait. There is a girl sitting in the bank of chairs to the left of me and on the end table next to her is a phone. She is on the phone. Chatting. Laughing. On a phone I'm sure they put there to keep people from bugging the receptionist to use hers. But for legitimate purposes like calling for a ride, or something. She has a can of Mountain Dew and a bag of Doritos. She is wearing shorts and a t-shirt. She is still on the phone 5 minutes later when the HR person came out for me. The HR person says to the girl on the phone, "Excuse me, are you waiting to see someone?" Girl, somewhat irritated, to phone: "Hold on." To HR person: "Yeah, for an interview!?"

So fucking incredible. I hope they made her wait all afternoon.