Archive for January, 2004

Yay! I get to hang out with Justin Winokur tonight! He's been in and around the area off and on for like a month now, and finally it's my turn to play with him. I'm excited. Except probably I'm a boring dork and he'll hate me. Or maybe I'll give him a monkey and he'll be my friend, too!

My non-boyfriend is all being a non-boyfriend right now. I really don't understand that boy. Or most boys, for that matter. But really especially that boy. Le sigh.

My foot sleeps.

Well, Christ on a stick. I wake my ass up early (7AM, no less) to do some overtime. Managed to get here by 8:30, which is saying a lot for me. So, I'm all signed into AOL, but when I go to sign into my other crap, my SecurID craps out on me. Of course, at this point there are all of 3 supervisors in the building and the password/securID lady isn't in yet. So, here I sit, wait wait waiting at work while not getting paid. I don't dig this game. I'm bored. I'm bored and could be watching Buffy right now.

Oh, and apparently thanks to increased call volume and other crap, looks like they're gonna have mandatory overtime for at least the first two weeks of February. Which, ok, it's only gonna be like 30 minutes a day, and I can totally use the money (plus if there's mandatory overtime, that means there'll be lots of voluntary OT available) so it's not a big deal. But, I wanna whine about something else trivial. It's early and I'm not supposed to be awake yet. Plus, at this hour, none of my work-friends are here yet so I have nobody to talk to. Blah.

What else. Oooh…I snagged a copy of a Simpsons Treehouse of Horrors episodes yesterday from Target. Plus, on clearance, a rockin' new purse and two pairs of new underwear: Cookie Monster and Oscar the Grouch. Woot!

Ok, I can work now finally.

You know, fuck you, non-boyfriend. I understand that you don't feel well, but dammit, I kinda needed someone to be compassionate. One would think that you'd take the time to come over and say goodbye. Especially after I said that I was upset. That I had been crying, that I had to take time off the phone to try to pull myself together. That I had tried to get to go home since I couldn't keep composed long enough to help anyone, but wasn't allowed. And sure, you said that you hoped I felt better. But maybe I needed a hug or something…. Grrr.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Just not what I needed right now.

Today fucking sucks and I hate it. I have so much anger in my heart. I got it around 12:30 last night and it's just been festering there since. Stupid fucking everything.

Plus. Stupid fucking vending machines not giving me caffeine. How can you be OUT of caffinated goodness? I need it! It's like blood! Dammit. Have to drink stupid not as yummy Gatorade. I don't like that. No Pepsi. No Coke. No Mt. Dew. I'm mad. Grrrr.

Plus, just random stupidness. I want to kick a kitten. And a puppy. That'd make my grinch heart happy.

Oh yeah. And I'm wearing an AOL shirt today cause I was too lazy and emo to do laundry on my days off. So now I'm suffering in the ugly. And not only in the ugly, but in the reminder that I'm working for the worst company ever.

Probably homicide is the logical solution right now. Stupid fucking everything.

Stupid fucking days. Stupid fucking everything. Stupid fucking blood making me crazy. Stupid fucking red monkies that won't stand at attention. What a crap-assed army.

I called the boy tonight. I don't know what to think. He seemed semi-happy to talk to me. Said he couldn't come over cause he was broke and had no gas in his car. Said I should come over. Which. Ok. Freaks me out a little. I like being in my home because it gives me a level of comfort. Plus, I'm retarded and get lost when driving to new places. So, trying to find his house means I'll prolly get lost. But, yeah. So I called him again and said if he wanted to hang out I'd come over. But, I feel like I'm imposing myself on him. Even though he asked me earlier to come over. I'm retarded and this sucks.

Plus, I'm so not pretty today. Like, the ugliest girl ever kind of not pretty. And it's petty, he's seen me when I wake up – which is just not a nice sight – so prolly it's not a big deal. Still. Still, still. He's going to take one look at me and decide to hate me more than he already does. Except for I know he doesn't. And, grr. I'm so crazy right now. I'm crazy and ready to cry over nothing at all. Stupid stupid stupid evening.

Maybe I can just pretend to get a headache and not go over. It's not like I'm gonna get laid tonight anyways… But, damn, I would really like to hang out with him. Grrr. I hate this week.

Stupid fucking depression. Stupid fucking boys who don't call or come over. Stupid fucking caring about stupid boys who don't call or come over. (Ok, so he called last night to tell me he was sick and wouldn't be coming over. But. He also said he'd call tonight and he didn't. And, yes I could have called him….but dammit, he said he'd call me.) I'm pathetic. I'm pathetic and hormonal and I've been eating icing from a can. Again.

I tried some retail therapy today and wound up with hot pink nailpolish, bright green eyeliner and an orange candle. I'm crazy. And now sporting hot pink nails. And bright green lined eyes. And I'll prolly go to work this way…cause I'm *so* pretty. Gag.

I hate having stupid feelings for someone. I'm the girl who doesn't care. I'm the girl who refuses to react to things. I'm the girl without emotion, dammit I've worked really fucking hard to get this way. I'm too cynical to care if a stupid boy calls me. Yet, here I am. Being all sad and lonely. And deciding that he hates me, and that he's back with his creepy ex-girlfriend who won't leave him alone, and that he thinks I'm a dork in not the good way, and, and…well just other stupid illogical things. And I don't like it. And so help me Jeebus, if I even shed a tear over a stupid boy I'm going to hurt someone. Not that I'm on the verge of crying or anything…I'm just saying. If it ever comes to that, I'm gonna be pissed. And I'm gonna fuck some shit up. I don't allow tears in these here parts. On New Years day, while puking my delicate insides out (during my first and only hangover, ever) two tears escaped unauthorized. It was not a pretty sight. I don't do so well with emotions anymore. They just get in the way.

Man. Today just fucking sucks.

The Dante's Inferno Test has banished you to the Seventh Level of Hell!
Here is how you matched up against all the levels:

Level Score
Purgatory (Repenting Believers) Very Low
Level 1 – Limbo (Virtuous Non-Believers) Very Low
Level 2 (Lustful) Very High
Level 3 (Gluttonous) Extreme
Level 4 (Prodigal and Avaricious) Very High
Level 5 (Wrathful and Gloomy) Very High
Level 6 – The City of Dis (Heretics) Extreme
Level 7 (Violent) Extreme
Level 8- the Malebolge (Fraudulent, Malicious, Panderers) Very High
Level 9 – Cocytus (Treacherous) Very High

Take the Dante Inferno Hell Test

So, I was just informed that I'm apparently *not* allowed to wear pink fuzzy slippers at work. Mind you, I've been doing it for…hmm…almost two months now. But, apparently this is a Big Bad, akin to wearing a hat or a corset. Who knew?

I'm really, really sad cause they were one of the few things that keep me sane here. Soon, they're gonna take away my army of red monkies, too. Then I dunno what I'll do.

Your Ultimate Purity Score Is…
Category Your Score Average
Self-Lovin' 33.3%
When I think about you – or anyone – I touch myself
65%
Shamelessness 52.4%
It takes a couple of drinks
79.4%
Sex Drive 52.6%
A fool for love, but not always
77.7%
Straightness 0%
Knows the other body type like a map
44.9%
Gayness 1.8%
Makes Dr. Frank-n-Furter look tame
83.5%
Fucking Sick 72.6%
Dipped into depravity
89.9%
You are 38.11% pure
Average Score: 72.6%

Apparently I am not only crazy, but a bad, bad girl as well.