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you used to be my girl
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since March 1st, 2k! |
dear Angie:
You can already legally fog up car windows. The age of consent in Canada is 14, not 18 (hey, when you're me you gotta know these things), unless you are in a position of authority over the younger person (ie you prefer the top). But... you will be able to buy lottery tickets, pornography, alcohol, cigarettes, and the same staggeringly pure street heroin that we got Jeff for his birthday.
Also: when travelling to the US, print out uber.nu's handy wallet-sized age of consent chart!
This website would be way more interesting if I had an audience of complete strangers, because then I would post every sexual tangent that came into my head. But since it was created first for friends and acquaintances I want to impress (and they still make up about 99 44/100% of my hits) I try to maintain my facade of, well, normalcy.
Jeff: what's RHPS?
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i was checking out the list of 25 most recently updated pitas (too lazy to create hyperlink; tough shit, gentle readers) and i noticed that three of the 25 were friends of mine: jeff, jess, and the good old fat duck. it made me feel intimately connected to the universe. especially since i was the once who discovered pitas in the first place... cash will be accepted instead of love poetry and fawning adoration.
3 out of 25 is twelve percent. i personally know twelve percent of the internet.
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this update will get longer later. i will add to it after the lost world ends. i just wanted to take a moment to comment that the whole "boston pizza project" really messed me up. we went out for pizza, and it took me literally three slices to figure out the joke. bad sign.
i swam 1 km in a half an hour this morning, and then went to watch jeff's football team play as a gesture of goodwill. i smell all fresh, like chlorine.
i have a new hobby: i collect finger puppets. i think it's a great thing to collect because they're cheap and fun, so even people who don't like me that much can but them for me as presents. once i have enough, i'm going to put on a play. so, send me some finger puppets! please.
"so be it, i'm your crowbar
"...i'm shy and sensitive, a clumsy flirt and a bad liar, and not very smooth-- and, additionally, i'm still getting back on my feet after a breakup that made my life flash before my eyes. (watch your head-- rebounding can be dangerous!)"
"i'm not the girl you make me into/although i am, so maybe i am..."
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si! habla espagnol!
yesterday: my anthro prof jiggles the overhead projector while making cracks about "the blair witch lecture."
university and i were made for each other. Seriously.
Unfortunately, it means I never have time to update myw ebsite anymore. So all my entries have a lot of line breaks in them to make them look longer.
See?
It's sad, really.
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you just stare at the assignment until drops of blood appear on your forehead.
i am going to cry.
reasons i do not kick ass:
I am going to cry.
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last night i lay in bed for an hour listening to rick dees and the weekly top 40, too tired to do anything except contemplate my stipply ceiling and wonder about my life.
i HATE rick dees and the weekly top 40.
Please mail me with one thing you are thankful for.
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did you ever wish you were really, really hideous looking-- just so you would know no one liked you for the wrong reasons?
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no. no, i don't.
this has been a public service announcement.
Happy Canadian thanksgiving from Deletia and please please please please call me.
Stuff that is cool:
stuff that is not cool:
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at the end of the (everclear?) song WONDERFUL, i always think my phone is ringing.
i think my cell phoneme is ringing-- CELL! CELL!
haha. sorry, i'm just being funny over here. ignore me.
i went to work. amie's close went smoothly-- she is a retail queen who only needs the seeds of good till-balancing planted before she blooms on her own. i now feel like an intimate step in the cycle-- i have an almost spiritual sense of belonging to the ARP family. my first two trainees are standing on their own now!
a really bitchy psycho lady yelled at me. our rolos were on sale 2 for $1.19, and she thus insisted one should be 60 cents. when i told her they were regular price unless she bought two, she just tore into me. it reminded me of those raptors in JURASSIC PARK, no joking. by the time she got around to accusing me of stealing thirty cents from my innocent customers and pocketing it (yielding about $1.50 a night, nonetheless-- my wicked schemes are making me a fucking millionnaire no doubt) i was almost in tears. BAD RETAIL KARMA. what i hate about this situation is that i am totally at her mercy. for one thing, i am the one in the smock and i'm supposed to be nice to her in spite of the overwhelming urge i have to kick her in the face; secondly, i really, really hate it when people don't like me. most people can take a certain amount of criticism about the quality of their character without it getting them down, but i can't. i was struck, as she left, by the desire to chase after her, attempting to convince her that i'm actually a good person and she had misjudged me and we could still be friends.
on the other hand, she was way out of line. even if i made a mistake, which i didn't, she still didn't have to be so damn hostile. i mean, it's not like i accidentally nuked her house or flattened her infant son with my bulldozer or anything like that. it was thirty fucking cents.
i was so tempted to tell her to call deanna tomorrow during regular hours, because deanna knows very well i'm the only competent part-time person at the front and i've never, ever had an angry customer before. she was way out of line, but i am the one who is going to lie in bed tonight feeling bad about it.
my spanish exam was open-book, and about half of the questions were obscure multiple-choice questions on the little cultural tidbits that pepper the book. it pissed me off, anyway. i expected it to be actually ABOUT spanish. i mean, i can understand learning about hispanic cultures when you're studying spanish, but i thought the exam was going to be on the language we had been learning. i think i did okay on it, but i was not a happy chica.
my anthropology class was very interesting. we're talking about religion and spirituality, and our prof was talking about something called mana-- which is basically a non-human, positive energy that people can possess. he explained it as being those people who can command a room the moment they enter it, can attract people to them without even seeming to try, those strange folks who can make everyone love them. he said, "i'm sure you have all known someone like that... and you probably hated them."
i tried to think if i knew anyone with mana, and i figured that mrs. horwood and angie probably have it. it's a fun term, and not made-up, either. on the bus on the way home meghan and i started talking about this, and then gradually got onto the subject of people who have-- not mana exactly-- but just brutal sexual energy...
These father-son type relationships are the model for most of the societal convention described in Beowulf: the warrior/thane and king relationship seems to be modelled on a father-son type of relationship; lineage, traced through the father, is the primary source of information about strangers and a huge indicator of social status; and power-- in the form of kingship-- is passed on from father to son. These three aspects of the culture suggest that the relationship between father and son was a very significant one.
I've spent about half an hour taking sentences out, putting them back in, and moving them around. I'm James Fucking Joyce, man.
I took a bunch of stuff out of the actual entry, which was all sort of blubbery, about Meghan and things. Meggggghhhhhannnnnn.... please like me again.
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I hate that savage garden song, "affirmation". "I believe that trust is more important that mongamy"? Is there a less obvious way of stating, "I sleep with as many pop groupies as I can... just as long as they trust me"?
I believe that someday I will be rewarded for being the only responsible person at Lynnwood. I will be rewarded... by working with Andrew on Tuesday night!
I'm just kidding. Kinda. I want all of you to stop by my store on Tuesday PM and make an estimate as to his age.
The next few days are going to be reeaaaaaallllly busy, so don't blame me if I update constantly to procrastinate. My Spanish homework, and the intensive training I have to do at the store, are what is cluttering up my otherwise totally enjoyable scheduling landscape.
i ran into darleina, or however you spell it, on the bus, and she was like "yeah... i saw chris the other day," and it emerged through the course of the conversation that we had broken up, and she said "REALLY?" with this astounded look on her face. were we the couple everyone counted on to stay together forever (come hell or high water)?
My graduating class will never forgive me, or just never believe me. Perhaps I will never forgive myself-- after all, I thought this place was an empire.
last night:
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Boy, you can now get some free advice about the best job for you-- and the best thing is that this detailed analysis is based on six quick and easy to answer questions!
Artist Movie Star Park Ranger Rock Star Teacher Astronaut Chef Politician Author Chemist I'd be damn good at all these things. Well, except maybe the chemist. I'm not sure THAT's the best idea. And come to think of it, being an astronaut is not for me, as much as I like rocketship finger-puppets. But movie star? yesk? It's too bad we can't ALL be movie stars.
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I'm watching RELIC HUNTER and feeling proud of myself because I finally got around to adding a bunch of links to my sadly neglected left column. I'm feeling proud of myself for other reasons as well. i wouldn't mind being the kind of girl who could just pick up guys, without even appearing to try.
while cleaning out under my till @ work, I found a crumpled-up note, written by (I think) my predecessor, Wendy, the girl who worked there before she got fired and I got hired. I felt like Offred in The Handmaid's Tale.
Pop culture moment: I sold some cough drops to a Macdonald's employee, and after he paid me we both said "Thank you!", the same sick smiles on our faces, and then he added with a grin: "Enjoy your meal!"
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