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God save the queen
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| I remember reading a Readers Digest article junior year of high school, about how they did a study of how certain scents caused physical arousal in men. And the top two being pumpkin and lavender. And how people bought it, and all of a sudden the females I hung around for whatever reason were professing their great fondness of both pumpkin pie and lavender. As if it were some sort of cleverly subtle pickup line. All I have to say about that is that there must be nothing stranger than having a hard-on and being disgusted simultaneously. | ||||
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| We have Halo 2: Limited Edition. Waited outside of CompUSA this morning. There was one other guy there, and a few waiting in cars. I'd post a picture to gloat, but I have no server space at the moment. Edit: updated icon. | ||||||||
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| ( your warning: election viewpoint and questions from a swing / non voter ) | ||||||
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| I'm almost certainly having problems breathing, sort of gasping for air (not wheezing). I've never had this sort of problem before until the last week or so. It doesn't help that I have a sinus infection, that my coughing's worse, that this apartment is unsanitary, and that I was so upset that I had to get off of the phone, wash with hot water, and catch my breath between sobs. I did think it was weird when I was initially sick that I had to catch my breath in between blowing my nose. Is this the sign of a more advanced sinus infection, or maybe I'm having some sort of allergy-induced asthma? (I've never had this problem before.) I just took some generic Tylenol Cold and Sinus (pseudophedrine + acetaminophen) and had Claritin-24 hr (generic) at 1:30 this afternoon. Who the fuck is making sure I get to the emergency room if I can no longer breathe? My boyfriend? | ||||
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| Yogurt and granola. I wish I had discovered this breakfast earlier in my years. I used to eat the prepackaged mixers when I was a kid, but I didn't know that one could buy a box of granola and add it to the yogurt of your choice. I'm contemplating writing fanfic. Even Jade the self-loathing gay wrote HP fanfic. (And he did a pretty good job of it, too.) I'm not sure how good I'd be at it. I seem to be a halfway decent RPer, despite my limited mobility, so maybe I should expand my fangrrl horizons. And somehow the mental picture of Michael attempting to let a trapped bird out of the house makes me smile. :) (There now, was that less angsty?) Also, I recommend ![[info]](http://library.vu.edu.pk/cgi-bin/nph-proxy.cgi/000100A/http/web.archive.org/web/20041129174519im_/http:/=2fstat.livejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small} storge_space to the HP losers who don't know about it yet. :P (Michael didn't like it. Oh well.) | ||||||||
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| - "There's something about a crippled, black, schizophrenic, civil rights activist-turned-gunslinger whose body has been hijacked by a white, pregnant demon from a parallel world that keeps a seven-volume story bracingly strong as it veers toward its Armageddon-like conclusion." - "The characters in this intelligent, absorbing tale of suburban angst are constrained and defined by their relationship to children. There's Sarah, an erstwhile bisexual feminist who finds herself an unhappy mother and wife to a branding consultant addicted to Internet porn..." - "Meet Dexter Morgan. He's a highly respected lab technician specializing in blood spatter for the Miami Dade Police Department. He's a handsome, though reluctant, ladies' man. He's polite, says all the right things, and rarely calls attention to himself. He's also a sociopathic serial killer whose..." excerpts from amazon.com, Editor Favorites in Fiction, first page | ||||||||
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 You are an onion in a cup. But you knew that already. You make people cry, but not on purpose. You're honest. Hey, if you had bad breath, you'd want someone to tell you. So you do the same to them. As natural as the truth feels, and as much as you hate liars, both of those things might keep you a little bit seperated form the rest of humanity. Very few people understand the value of truth. That distance, sometimes lonliness, is what you have to live with when you're true to yourself. The Whats In Your Kitchen Personality Test brought to you by Quizilla | ||||||||
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| It's not a cavity, it's not in any of the sites with stitches. (I just brushed.) But I woke up this morning to full blown pain in my upper right jaw, somewhere in my first and second cuspids. I really hope this is normal. When will the misery end? | ||||||||||
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| I don't want to judge potential friends by where and how I meet them or what they do, or even what I have in common with them. Even if I do seem to end up having something in common with the people I like. There are myriads of factors. I hope I don't necessarily need to be more just or less merciful. Because mercy is a good thing. Friends are people who share your philosophies about life. They give spontaneous or well-timed hugs, or know when to back off because they care enough to find out. They are able to be honest with each other, and able to respect each other's opinions. I think that's why many people just can't be any more than acquantainces. Is it at all possible to respect everyone's opinions and ill gotten conclusions? May we see past the labels society puts on each of us to see the true beauty inside, or the lack thereof. (I should post a variation of this to abstractthought.) | ||||||
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| When they pulled your wisdom teeth out, did they have to put stitches in your CHEEKS? Because, um, the ones in my left cheek aren't feeling too stable. :/ (Times like this I really miss randomquestions and rq_version2.) | ||||||||
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| I found an excellent article on WebMD that addresses the issue of workplace bullying. It's a much more common occurence than I thought it was, and I myself have encountered it several times, once so severely that the supervisor was indeed reprimanded and eventually quit / got fired. (I didn't stick around to find out exactly what happened.) This was at the Eagle's Nest at Mary Washington College (now the University of Mary Washington). My mother actually had to defend herself once, with the workplace she had been with for ten years. She managed to stay with her job and advance, eventually, which is not what typically happens in such cases of abuse. She had to dig up medical reports, come up with evidence (the article explains how difficult this can be, and gives technique and advice points). So yeah. In case this comes in handy to anyone in the future...here it is. Even if you leave, as the article says, you'll be helping out anyone who works there now and in the future, as well as the bully himself - after all, anyone who needs to find fulfillment in life by bullying others must have have a pretty shitty life as it is. | ||||||
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| I find that I've been writing better material in my letter to Casey than I have written in my journal in a long time. Maybe it's because I'm writing for an audience that's actually listening, rather than merely for myself and anyone who's cool with laying eyes on it. How do you establish quality control? I find it difficult to with my current attitude. It's almost as if homeyness and goodness seem to struggle. Maybe I feel as if my ideas about life are all too clear here, that I am transparent here, and that these things would be unnecessarily verbalized, but that they need more spelling out on paper. Maybe it's because I'm actually talking to someone. And unlike in realtime conversation, I can take my own sweet time. | ||||||
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| I went swimming today. Served a beachball back and fourth with an adorable, freckle faced third grader who wasn't allowed in the pool. She accidentally stuck her shoes in the water. :/ Ah, the nature of childhood. 10 year old black girl: *calls a 14 year old boy "white trash"* 14 year old white boy: *throws her into the pool* Some kid told the girl's little sister that she was "just a little kid". She responded indignantly, "I'm not a little kid! I'm a pre-grownup!" The lifeguard was about my age. I'm super bad with names, so I don't really remember it...but he's an environmental sci major at MWC, and he hates it (predictably - I hated the bio program there). Apparently he worked at Friday's two years ago, and hated it. :P Predictably. :) I'm off to go for a jog, and then we're all crashing Liz's other party. Because she needs cheering up. She didn't seem like she was in a very good mood at work today. James asked me to go to the ABC store for a bottle of Captain Morgan, but I'm too lazy. Besides, I don't know whether I can support the drinking of Captain and...Sierra Mist. Sounds gross. :P I'd rather get ginger ale and vanilla vodka. <3 | ||||||
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| I'm at James's house in Fredericksburg, looking for a place to live temporarily until Michael finds a job. Anyone willing to lend me a couch for a few months, at least until I can get on my feet? Or know someone non-sketchy who can? Preferrably within walking or public transportation distance from a potential workplace? I can easily find a serving job and pay some rent - just not $400 + utilities at this very very moment, or a lease to sign. Greyhound tickets are expensive, but...yeah. If anyone loves me enough to give me a couch for a few in exchange for rent, let me know. (My parents have taken my car away + belongings. I'm hoping to get a hold of those belongings in the next few days, with James' help.) | ||||||
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| Four days 'till I leave for Huntsville to see my uh...long distance friend. Sad. Although that deep dish pizza pie was pretty good. Hopefully my stomach will be up to running in about an hour. I've been working every evening. Working Ashley's shift tonight. Said goodbye to curly Ashley and Rachel yesterday - they're going back to school. I'll have Sunday off, so hopefully Monica and I will have some time to hang out before I disappear for eight days. I should think of a gift to bring Mrs. Beatty for her hospitality. A bottle of Asti would probably be a little on the racy side. (Although I'll probably bring some anyway, along with my beloved Chivas and maybe my butterscotch schnapps if anyone's interested.) Any non-alcoholic suggestions? I believe that it is our social responsibility as adults to be at least accustomed to the effects of alcohol, through firsthand experience. I don't understand beer bongs or taking 21 shots on your birthday, but I do think it's good to know of a decent wine or bar drink to serve when you invite people over to a nice dinner, as well as knowing how to judge someone's level of sobriety. Maybe this is all partly because I'm a server at a restaurant. I don't believe that knowledge of entertainment regarding alcoholic beverages should label anyone as a lush. I've known bartenders who are intelligent about their own drinking decisions, as well as with their own lives in general. I still need to get a strap for my guitar. It's a pretty Washburn, and my fingers are more calloused than they were when I first got it. Nabil is getting the same model, I found out incidentally. Tried calling Miguel's house to get SCII back. Whoever answered the phone basically hung up on me after telling me he was asleep. Perhaps I'll call back after I go running. | ||||||
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| I had a rough day. Jimmy Curtis basically told me I could try to pick up shifts this week, and he wasn't writing me into the schedule (it's a little late to be doing it, though I think people have done it for others). Found out that though Jimmy-the-server told me he was working my shift this morning, something got fucked up when someone got a little too happy with the schedule, and he was working for Ashley, not me. I get chewed out. Went to HTO to return my sandals. Apparently the guy who sold them to me was an asshat and gave me the wrong size and didn't tell me how to adjust them. The store manager told me to contact Chaco and to see whether they'd help me out first, then to come to the company. (continued after work) Hmm, what else? Then I went to...the perfume counter. And spent fifty bucks on some nice perfume. And I love the top and heart notes, but the bottom notes smell not-quite-as-nice on me. Its Shi by Alfred Sung. I love orange blossom, but water lily doesn't really really suit me, I guess. I'm wishing I'd gotten Gucci Envy. The plastic isn't in good condition (tried, but it tore) so I really don't want to try and return it - the saleslady was really great and did her best to help me. (It's an independent kiosk.) I guess my point was that as I walked in the door, Mom and Monica were walking out, and my mom had this Look on her face, like she was wondering what the fuck was wrong with me. Which is just...argh. I had gone through a lot, and I was damned if I was going to go through the rampant barrage of criticism that would ensue from me trying to explain any of it, no matter how abridged I made it. So I stormed past her and went to my room and started writing this. :P Then Rachel calls me and apparently Jessica the hostess is sick, and she asks me to come in for her. So I do. And I stay until 12:30 midnight. Oh well. At least I have a sex0r long-distance-friend and lots of trashy fanfic to read. | ||||||||
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| Hi. I have ten minutes left on this machine. Water Country USA was fun. I got pretty sunburned - I've been spending most of the morning and afternoon in front of the TV watching shitty Comedy Central shows and slathering Aloe gel on my shoulders, not really caring about the burn splotches on my legs. (I've never burned in splotches before.) Wearing one of my dad's t-shirts because all I have are tiny shirts. (This keyboard sucks.) ( blah ) | ||||||
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| ( first whatsits - a meme. ) | ||||||||
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God save the queen
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