almost-sane's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Notes and Nit-Picking Yeah, so here's one to make you barf. Myra is dating this fantastic guy named Phil. Phil the dog trainer from England who sends her a dozen red roses at the office and buys her expensive gifts. He takes her out for nice meals and cooks her breakfast on Sunday morning after they've slept in having stayed up all night. This past weekend he rented a mustang and drove her up the Malibu coast into the mountains and and parked where they could watch the sunset. And as the sky was turning various shades of orange and purple, he told her he loved her for the first time. Don't worry, I can wait here while you reach for the bucket. I'm feeling a tad queasy myself anyway. All done? Moving on, then... Though not as heavy in the romance department as a my delerious happy co-worker's, my weekend was great. Spent it with my favorite crew: Matt, Todd, Caroline, James... James' slavedriving girlfriend. Ugh. I am so glad it's a short week. I am not so thrilled about spending the whole holiday with my dramatic, crazy family, but I am looking forward to all the fun my friends and I are planning for the weekend. Oodles of trouble. Hooray! And I've updated my cast list for everyone. Much more current now. Updated pictures, updated profiles, updated friends and boyfriends... Take a look. I've been thinking about redesigning my layout again but I can't get that motivated yet. We'll see. I was thinking something more feminine, but let's not get carried away just yet. And in other news, this morning I came "this close" to dragging my roommate out back and beating the living shit out of him. And don't think I couldn't take his pathetic ass despite his being a guy. Anyone who knows K. knows what an absolute pussy he is. I need to be lectured about the fact that I smoke like I need a hole in the head. And as repeatedly as he does it? He can bite my ass. My life. My choice. And I'm no moron- you think I don't know it's bad for you? I can read the labels, I can see the commercials and the ads, I can hear the warnings. I know I have the cough (which comes and goes because I smoke but also because it's Winter). But one more hint, one more look, one more comment and I'll hit him with his skillet. I oughta tell him about how the whole building heard him and his girlfriend having sex last week and it was, like, SO obvious she is faking it. A woman knows. 3:28 P.M. - 11.22.04 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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