One of those entries when I actually treat this like a journal. So don't bother.
Let me tell you about today.
First of all, I combed my hair.
Not only did I tame it, I curled it too.
My first day of work called for good first impressions.
So ta-dah! There I was a la curled and greasy.
Because that's what make-up does. It greases you up.
I waited on the GO train platform for the 3.47 westbound train to union station for an hour.
It was windy, but humidity prevailed.
So it was like watching trees sway, dandelion stars fly and your hair being ruffled about by a gust of wind that you couldn't feel.
It was eerie.
Anyway, I had an hour to kill so I found a bench, a spot on the horizon to stare at for a while, a cloud that didn't shape like anything that came to mind, and finally a page 59 in a book by Chuck Palahniuk.
I was reading Fight Club when a cluster of kids and teeny boppers filed on to the platform.
Apparently, Hilary Duff was being interviewed at MUCH today.
As soon as the little devils planted a seat beside me, I was reading, "And now, at breakfast the next morning, Tyler's sitting here covered in hickies and says Marla is some twisted bitch, but he likes that a lot."
It felt awkward so I stopped. And I swear their moms were looking at me like they knew what the last passage said.
Moms know everything.
So my first day at work was nice.
It wasn't what I thought it would be like. And it's times like these when you're happy to be wrong.
I like it. And my obsessive compulsiveness came into play as I set the hangers in one rack to all face the same way.
I like it. And the people too.
But unfortunately, I'm only working 8 hours a week for now.
So I think I'm gonna work at Swiss Chalet as well.
It was raining when I was walking down my street.
And for once I didn't mind
that it rained,
that worms crept out of the soil and onto the sidewalk and on the sole of my shoes,
that it was dark,
that I was walking down an empty street,
that I was by myself.
Because I didn't mind, I dilly-dallied.
Louis Armstrong was singing in my ears through earphones that blasted La Vie en Rose
and it felt like Paris,
with the street lamps and the rain and the shadows and the lack of agenda.
I've never been, but that song always brings me there.
And now I'm tired.
But I've decided to start saving for travel money.
Hold me close and hold me fast
The magic spell you cast
This is La Vie en Rose.
First of all, I combed my hair.
Not only did I tame it, I curled it too.
My first day of work called for good first impressions.
So ta-dah! There I was a la curled and greasy.
Because that's what make-up does. It greases you up.
I waited on the GO train platform for the 3.47 westbound train to union station for an hour.
It was windy, but humidity prevailed.
So it was like watching trees sway, dandelion stars fly and your hair being ruffled about by a gust of wind that you couldn't feel.
It was eerie.
Anyway, I had an hour to kill so I found a bench, a spot on the horizon to stare at for a while, a cloud that didn't shape like anything that came to mind, and finally a page 59 in a book by Chuck Palahniuk.
I was reading Fight Club when a cluster of kids and teeny boppers filed on to the platform.
Apparently, Hilary Duff was being interviewed at MUCH today.
As soon as the little devils planted a seat beside me, I was reading, "And now, at breakfast the next morning, Tyler's sitting here covered in hickies and says Marla is some twisted bitch, but he likes that a lot."
It felt awkward so I stopped. And I swear their moms were looking at me like they knew what the last passage said.
Moms know everything.
So my first day at work was nice.
It wasn't what I thought it would be like. And it's times like these when you're happy to be wrong.
I like it. And my obsessive compulsiveness came into play as I set the hangers in one rack to all face the same way.
I like it. And the people too.
But unfortunately, I'm only working 8 hours a week for now.
So I think I'm gonna work at Swiss Chalet as well.
It was raining when I was walking down my street.
And for once I didn't mind
that it rained,
that worms crept out of the soil and onto the sidewalk and on the sole of my shoes,
that it was dark,
that I was walking down an empty street,
that I was by myself.
Because I didn't mind, I dilly-dallied.
Louis Armstrong was singing in my ears through earphones that blasted La Vie en Rose
and it felt like Paris,
with the street lamps and the rain and the shadows and the lack of agenda.
I've never been, but that song always brings me there.
And now I'm tired.
But I've decided to start saving for travel money.
Hold me close and hold me fast
The magic spell you cast
This is La Vie en Rose.