it’s time! it’s time! it’s time for the thursday morning mpeg!!
“Where in the World is Carmen San Diego?” by Rockapella
“It Had to Be You” by Harry Connick Jr.
this week i have two for you. the first is small and cute and reminds me of my youth. the second is a classic which totally fit my melancholy mood last night. what are you waiting for? download them already!
holy fuck. it’s three o’clock already?
my day has consisted of: fighting to get out of bed, near depression upon witnessing the wreckage i call my hair, guilt for not being able to give the cute-little-philipino-lady-from-downstairs a ride to church, layout tweaking, layout tweaking, lunch at the grand buffet, layout tweaking, layout tweaking, email, email, & a smattering of real work. now, it’s time to go do my afternoon jog on The Machine. then it will be time to go home.
my life is too exciting for words.
sorry… i’ve totally forgotten to write an entry today. don’t tell jena, but i’ve been busy working on a new layout for her.
don’t worry, i’m not working today. no fear of productivity today, i tell you! instead, i’m playing with some layouts. that’s what i do at work when i’m not working, don’t you know?
talk amongst yourselves, i’m playing with pretty colours.
i woke up fine this morning, but the longer i’m awake the crankier i seem to become. it’s only 9am. i just can’t wait to see what kind of raging psychopathic bitch i am by four.
i watched crouching tiger, hidden dragon last night. i’m kicking myself that i didn’t go see it in the theatre, on a big screen. it’s all been said before, but it really is a breathtaking film. it makes me wonder about those people who complained about all the flying. can’t you suspend your disbelief long enough to get swept up in the story? the irony is that the same people who bitched about the impossibility of the fight scenes were probably the the exact same people who watch westerns and think they’re accurate representations of the “wild” west or sci-fi flicks and think the aliens are so realistic. morons.
i want to be just like shu lien when i grow up, beautiful and strong. complete with the mad sword skills.
you know you’re bored at work when you voluntarily go into the fitness room and jog for ten minutes just to pass the time.
i’ve worked all day. all day! i even started working (real work, not just showing up at work) four minutes early. four minutes! i did stop for exactly thirty minutes to eat my lunch and read a chapter of my book. i’ve also made three bathroom pitstops of no more than five minutes each. the result of all this industry? i have three empty in-trays and 75 minutes to kill until i can go home.
remind me not to be so fucking productive tomorrow, okay?
first: happy birthday, goddess!
second: team billy hq is looking damn fine.
third: bubbles are good. lillian rocks.
i don’t know why i’m sitting here in pain and misery with cramps when i have a bottle full of tylenol in my bag. it would take thirty-three seconds to get some caplets, swallow them and start the countdown to relief. but, no… i’d rather suffer. stupid uterus.
screw mickey rourke. i want to marry kevin smith.
i want a mickey rourke.
someone to look at me with those burning eyes. eyes which already know all the answers to the questions which he will ask. questions which will lead me, pull me, to the places i fear to go. he will say “do it for me” and i will have no choice but to comply.
he will own my body when he tells me how beautiful i am to him even as i know it’s not true. i will give myself to him because he knows everything about me which i strive to hide from everyone, especially myself.
he will touch me once and my skin will burn for days, emanating from that small spot, crawling along my body until i am engulfed in flame — thirsty, unquenchable flame — dampened only by his skin against mine again. and again. and again.
i want a mickey rourke.
i want to be swallowed whole by his power over me. i want to be both completely weak and infinitely powerful when i’m in his embrace. he will make me his slave and in turn i will master his broken heart.
i want a mickey rourke.
home.
full… *pats tummy*
busy!
tired.
– this weekend, besides cleaning out my closets, i want to go here and see what they have in the way of good, used SLR cameras. if they have something for a reasonable price, i may spend what’s left of the weekend taking pictures of the stuff i took out of my closets.
– lately, i’ve been down to one or two cigarettes a day. total. it’s not really a conscious decision to slow down or stop, but i just haven’t been around places i could smoke more. i could choose to continue having my couple of fags a day and then binge smoke on the weekends while with my friends or i could stop completely during the week and binge smoke on the weekends or i could smoke a few during the week and a few on the weekends or none during the week and a few on the weekends or not smoke any at all. too many choices. i need a smoke…
– i’m having the worst bad hair week i can remember. i blame it on my father. this whole being at his place to pick him up at 6:30am gig is really fucking with my morning ablutions. i’m used to getting up between 5:30 and 6:00 and having until at least until quarter to seven to pad about sleepily before i’m forced to go out into the cruel cold world. i never realized how much that extra fifteen or twenty minutes meant to the preparation of my physical appearance to the world.
– speaking of the daddy cab service i’m running, i really hope his car isn’t ready today and i have to chauffeur him tomorrow. i had been invited to a bridal shower gone co-ed tomorrow after work, but i’d actually rather not go. if i have to take dad home, that would be the perfect “previous committment” to get me out of it without guilt. blood’s thicker than corona, you know.
i’m going to start a little something new ’round these parts: the thursday morning mpeg! every thursday, i’ll upload a song i like and you can listen to it, or not, as you will. there will be no archive. the song will only be available for one week.
this week it’s “the japanese song” by bowser & blue. i’m sure i’ve heard it before, but a recent reintroduction to it by mark had me chuckling for the rest of the night. i hope you like it… if not, you suck!
last night, amongst other plot elements and settings, i drempt that i was shopping in a rather crappy target store in nova scotia. i was looking for a pair of underwear and some snack foods. i was horrified at the lack of quality merchandise (although i did find a pretty pair of royal blue silk panties for cheap) and kept thinking “why does paige love this place so much?”
i love it when i get the last bag of peanut m&ms from the vending machine. *munch*
i find myself being very self-conscious about the number of paragraphs i begin with the letter “i”. especially when it’s used as a pronoun. “i blah blah blah…” i look back over the page and cringe. i purposefully rework entries before posting to eliminate as many as possible.
then i think about why i’m doing that. why i’m worried about it. this is my fucking website. if i want to start every sentence with “i” why not? this is about me. me! me! me! if you don’t like it, go read that insightful crap on other people’s pages.