yes, lovely. it was a good sunday. i laid about watching some telly, washed my bedding, spent three hours chatting with one of my most intriguing friends, went grocery shopping, bought myself flowers, ate 18 mini powdered donuts (ugh), and read my book while cuddled up in my comfy chair with my furry slippers and the blanket my mommy knitted.
my flowers are lovely, smell beautiful and make me very glad i did something nice like that for myself. i have to do that more often.
– i had a lot of potential when i was younger. i think it got lost in one of our many moves.
– in kindergarten, i was described by a teacher as having “lots of self-confidence”. in a recent conversation, i was told i gave the impression of not being easily upset. i’m considering a change of profession. if can fool all these people, i should be an actor.
– what will be the major, defining advancement as described by future historians which occured during my lifetime? i’m thinking it’s something to do with dna, or bloo food.
– dear god, i can sound pretentious when i want to.
– i didn’t know, until today, that i’d been baptized catholic by my united church. does this mean i’m catholic? if so, i really need to go to confession.
i had green tea with lunch. yay! i’m not going to get cancer now.
it’s somewhat weird to realize that this was the weekend i had reserved for edge to come visit. two months ago, we were all crushy and talky and excited. now, he’s mutually diggin’ with a local girl and i’m having daydreams about a guy i won’t get.
it’s all good. he’s happy. i’m back to my status quo. it was fun, and i have a new friend.
- The nice men are ugly.
- The handsome men are not nice.
- The handsome and nice men are gay.
- The handsome, nice and heterosexual men are married.
- The men who are not so handsome, but are nice men, have no money.
- The men who are not so handsome, but are nice men with money think we are only after their money.
- The handsome men without money are after our money.
- The handsome men, who are not so nice and somewhat heterosexual, don’t think we are beautiful enough.
- The men who think we are beautiful, that are heterosexual, somewhat nice and have money, are cowards.
- The men who are somewhat handsome, somewhat nice and have some money and thank God are heterosexual, are shy and never make the first move.
- The men who never make the first move, automatically lose interest in us when we take the initiative
that can be the only reason why tony from vision2hire spent most of his presentation presenting to me, the lowliest of the triumvirate in attendnace at his product demo.
you thought i forgot, didn’t you? well, HAH! i didn’t! don’t you go doubting me again, you hear me? me and my thursday morning mpeg’ll kick your lilly-livered patoot from here to the rio grande! ahem.
“Stay” by Lisa Loeb
she’s cute and wears dark-rimmed glasses. isn’t it obvious why i picked this song?
aren’t all my coffee-flavoured work application icons adorable? yes. i thought so, as well. that is why i am sharing them. =)
every time i take a semi-deep breath, my middle back hurts. i think i’m dying.
i need to phone jim the mechanic and see if he can quote me prices to either rebuild or replace my car’s engine (i almost said “my engine” but thought better of it. although, considering the previous paragraph, maybe my engine needs replacing too). there are lots of leaks and it make scary rattle-y noises and it smells burny. every time i stop at a light, i watch the edges of the hood for smoke.
it’s either get into two-thousand dollars more debt just to keep the car in safe operating shape or get into twenty-thousand dollars more debt to buy a new car. if i was absolutely sure i could make the payments, i’d do the latter. i suppose it depends on just how much it would cost to get it fixed up. at this point, any money i put into it is a diminishing return. the car will be ten years old in april. it’s a 3-cylinder geo. i don’t think it was meant to make it into its teen years.
why does it always come back to money? maybe i’ll have to apply for that scheduling job i don’t really want. i have to decide by tomorrow, whatever i do.
it was good. beautiful. i laughed. i cried. i yelped. but, above all else, i really, really wished i hadn’t listened to the bbc radio version first. yes, it helped me keep all the characters straight. yes, it helped me keep the lay of middle earth clear in my mind. yes, it pretty much ruined all suspense because i knew exactly what was coming and where the story was going to go.
oh well. at least i’ve seen it now.
and i’ll be quoting elrond in classic agent smith enunciation.
he’s here! anthony is across the hall testing as i type this. he swooped in, looking adorable and smelling nice, to ask me if he could put me down as a personal reference. obviously i said yes. i’ll tell them anything to be able to see him every day for six more weeks.
i’m so pathetic… i’m glad i put mascara on this morning, though!
heather!
for some reason everything looks italicized to me today. weird.
so, there’s this commercial on tv for the big boxing week blowout sale at the brick, one of those appliance/home furnishing/electronics stores. you know, one of those “90 days same as cash! don’t pay for three years!” kinds of places.
anyway, they have this ad which has been running for what seems like months. the booming, monster-truck voice is telling you how great their deals are and that you should rush right in before it ends. all the while they show the throngs of people trying to weave their way through all the beds, couches, washing machines, entertainment units and dining sets. there’s not even enough room for them all. they’re hurrying from one department to another and cutting each other off at the odd intersection of ottomans.
i think they’ve backfired with this ad. mostly because there’s no bloody way in hell i’m going to go anywhere near any store with that many people in it. no one i know would willing subject themselves to that. it’s like trying to go to ikea on the weekend. it’s only something you do if you’re paying penance for kicking a puppy or something in a past life. every time i see it on tv i cringe.
okay, i wimped out. all i could think was “i’m not going to get home until TWO.” goodnight.
i think i’m going to have a nap when i get home tonight and then go to the 10:30 showing of lord of the rings. hopefully, it will be late enough that the throngs of cheap-tuesday movie goers will all be on their way home to a peaceful, work-night slumber instead of wanting to stay up until 2am to see a movie.
maybe i should phone dean and ask him if he wants to join me. just to be polite, you understand. there’s very little chance he’ll say yes.
tyler phoned last night and kept me up ’til one. well, he didn’t really keep me awake. i was in this weird, hypnotic state. time both stood still and slipped away. it was good. anything with tyler is good. especially when he’s wearing the boxers i sent him for xmas.
assman: am I thinking about this too much? ;) Perhaps. I don’t mind.
hessie: *laugh*
hessie: you don’t need me now. ;)
assman: Oh, I wouldn’t say that. I need someone to call me demeaning names and use me imperiously for her pleasure and her whims.
assman: I think you’re qualified. :)
hessie: *whistles “they call the wind mariah”*
assman: LOL. Oh dear. You do have a cruel streak in you.
hessie: you’ve just noticed? ;)
assman: “Please, Mistress Heather, I’ll do anything if you make it stop.”
assman: Would I have you at the top of my “people I want to abuse me like a disheveled fuck toy and slave” if I’d thought otherwise?
hessie: aww! that’s the nicest thing i’ve heard all day!
assman: Well, I think you’d be good at it. And you’d inspire me with your demeanor to new heights of humiliation and self-debasement for your pleasure, I”m sure.
hessie: that’s one way to put it. ;)
every once in a while i really like to look at pictures of wedding dresses — just for kicks. they’re pretty and the women who model them always look so good. until now. egads! i didn’t know how much the wrong model could ruin a beautiful gown.
someone feed that damn woman! *shudder*
my entire concept of post-work time is skewed because i stayed two hours late to try to put a dent in the shitload of stuff i have to do. it’s 8:15 and it feels like it should be 6:15. i’ll just have to remind myself that those two hours worked will equal four hours off work at some future date. i love banking my overtime.