and from this coop i fly

i might just have got my first true blue apartment on my own.

no roommates no guarantor no nothing but my own awesomeness to secure it.

im counting chickens

i dont know how much the rent will be.

it may be 1100 a month.

it may be 900

whatever it is...its mine

"she was tired of living in a box

...so she pack her bags with ribbons and strings and hats and scarves, rocks, and shoes, books and unopened glue-guns, a particular fat bullfrog and a fish named paul newman...

and she moved to...a bigger box

...she liked her bigger box"

oh yes...she liked it very much

abode

i live in a box

its a nice box, which i have decorated with hats and scarves and paintings by my sister.

i rarely have company in my box...which sounds like i don't get laid.

i keep piles of books on my nightstand because i have no bookshelf.

i keep my underwear in a 15 year old travel trunk because i have no dresser

i my trunk i also have six pairs of new shoes i have never bothered to break in, my entire collection of cd's and movies, empty spice jars for the kitchen i don't have, a parasite cleansing kit for the worms i probably have (you probably have them too), old journals dating back to 1993, several old bathing suits that i will never wear and my old hair-dyeing towel...just in case.

i'm like a fucking squirrel except i don't horde nuts...that also kinda sounds like i don't get laid.

feverish

i have a bit of a bug. in fact i am wretched sick. i tried to call into work and get someone to replace me. i've had some mild diarrhea, shakes, chills, im clammy and dizzy.

seeing as i spend all day shaking hands like a fucking politician and hugging regulars like nothing is wrong this seems the environment in which one takes a day off when one is sick.

wrong.

so when a person walks in the door and greets me with a hug should i pull away and explain that i am sick before i take their order and man-handle their plates...or do i pretend that im fine, hug them like any other day and knowingly expose them to my illness.

this should not be a question...i should not be at work. when other people are sick i ask them to stay home because I DO NOT WANT TO GET SICK.

bitch, moan, cry and whine

happy new year

tomorrow i'll get paid $.45 more per hour to be used up like an industry whore at a gang bang

after taxes that's 15 extra bucks a month

it's not so bad really...at least i don't have to park an increasingly fat ass in front of a computer while my calves develop purple veins as thick as red vines all the while sporting keds...yes yes it could always be worse.

work it

i'm a waitress.

i'll give you a moment to let the jealousy sink in...

or rather...a moment in which to let the jealousy sink...

my discomfort with allowing that sentence to end with a preposition is a testament to my misplaced intellect.

i do not rub shoulders with any "who's who" whatsoever...but i do bring them coffee and the occasional tiramisu...

most of the power people who lunch with me are dreadfully afraid of change--so much, in fact, that they order the same thing everyday and drive ten blocks to work to park in a spot that they pay for just so they might avoid taking public transit...these powerful people are cowards.

yup...i said it--alioto felching cowards

le douche

its official. ive surrendered to vanity.

i truly think that what i say is so fucking important that im going to put it out there.

here it is...out...how does it feel?

kinda lame...now if i want people to read this i'ma have to put it as a link...

it's like hey...read my shit...i think i'm great...or i think i'm so insightful --that my perception of the world is so unlike the rest of you saps that i may actually inspire you...or make you feel bad about yourself and how stupid you are.

or maybe i can impress you with a plethora of useless knowledge and ten dollar words

losers. all of us.