if i cried a river, how deep would you want it?
hmmm....have to make a bigger MISSING poster for my mug....
its real good...the drawing looks just like my mug...its got spikes and little arrows pointing at the different parts...spikes...tape...handle...me as a sad face without my mug...where the coffee goes...
saddness....
complete, and utter SADNESS
although...SOMEone had the gall to put ROOFIES in my new mug...
yeah...that's right...trish poured me a roofie drink...well. she poured it for me, but then made like a running leap and swan dive at me to get the tainted coffee away from me. she flew through the air with what seemed to be the greatest of ease, like the man on the flying trapeeze, knocking the cup from my grip and sending coffee spraying and mug flying, bouncing off the couch and into patty's lap, and i was like "WHAT the hell, trish?" and she was like... "::out of breath from swandiving:: theres something in...theres...::pulls out coffee soaked thing:: theres...roofies??" and i was aghast "trish!!! you were going to take advantage of me while i was passed out??" and she looked a little confused, but really i think it was just a cover up for her guilt "::pouring me a new cup:: no...i dont know who did it...i swear" yeah, right...
no, i know she wouldnt do that to me, at least not right there in the shop where her mom was. there is one other deviant soul out there who would....LACEY!!!
::sigh::
i guess all i can do is sit idly by and bide the time
i am loathe to actually confront anyone about this, as i would much rather deduce the mystery on my own, but there are absolutely no leads that will allow this. my prime suspect is out of the question...she definately would have broken by now...well, i guess that's not true, i have not seen her since...since god knows when.
in other news:
i lost a good chunk of my poetry...it was new stuff too, i am very very put out about this, and there is less than a month till the next acoustic takeover at club ft (this is an advertisement) and i've got nothing. i would just write new stuff but i think my creative side (dude, i just sneezed and totally goobed ALLover myself) i htink my creative side is afraid to commit anyhting to paper lest my retardo side should lose it.
oh, i also have a job. that's real fun...sort of? working catalog at penneys. it isnt too bad yet, though my manager seemed sort of surprised when i came back after the first day. it would be great if i could get some good boots for standing in, really i'd be all set. i definately started to panic a bit about the overwhelming amount of tiny things that i'd have to learn but am catching on quite nicely, only bad thing is soon i wont be able to tell people that i'm new in order to get them to stop giving me a hard time. bastards, dont treat me like i'm profoundly retarded when i announce that i'm not sure exactly how to do somehting so it'll be just a minute while i figure it out. people are just so fucking grumpy and "gimme, gimme right NOW!" its been 4 shifts and i already have stories. i will say this though, the apologetic, conversational, funny people totally make up for the crazies. also, add the fact that none of my managers care about my piercings/tattoos and i'm pretty damned happy.
i think that's it for the update.
basically, to sum it up: i am not dead.
its real good...the drawing looks just like my mug...its got spikes and little arrows pointing at the different parts...spikes...tape...handle...me as a sad face without my mug...where the coffee goes...
saddness....
complete, and utter SADNESS
although...SOMEone had the gall to put ROOFIES in my new mug...
yeah...that's right...trish poured me a roofie drink...well. she poured it for me, but then made like a running leap and swan dive at me to get the tainted coffee away from me. she flew through the air with what seemed to be the greatest of ease, like the man on the flying trapeeze, knocking the cup from my grip and sending coffee spraying and mug flying, bouncing off the couch and into patty's lap, and i was like "WHAT the hell, trish?" and she was like... "::out of breath from swandiving:: theres something in...theres...::pulls out coffee soaked thing:: theres...roofies??" and i was aghast "trish!!! you were going to take advantage of me while i was passed out??" and she looked a little confused, but really i think it was just a cover up for her guilt "::pouring me a new cup:: no...i dont know who did it...i swear" yeah, right...
no, i know she wouldnt do that to me, at least not right there in the shop where her mom was. there is one other deviant soul out there who would....LACEY!!!
::sigh::
i guess all i can do is sit idly by and bide the time
i am loathe to actually confront anyone about this, as i would much rather deduce the mystery on my own, but there are absolutely no leads that will allow this. my prime suspect is out of the question...she definately would have broken by now...well, i guess that's not true, i have not seen her since...since god knows when.
in other news:
i lost a good chunk of my poetry...it was new stuff too, i am very very put out about this, and there is less than a month till the next acoustic takeover at club ft (this is an advertisement) and i've got nothing. i would just write new stuff but i think my creative side (dude, i just sneezed and totally goobed ALLover myself) i htink my creative side is afraid to commit anyhting to paper lest my retardo side should lose it.
oh, i also have a job. that's real fun...sort of? working catalog at penneys. it isnt too bad yet, though my manager seemed sort of surprised when i came back after the first day. it would be great if i could get some good boots for standing in, really i'd be all set. i definately started to panic a bit about the overwhelming amount of tiny things that i'd have to learn but am catching on quite nicely, only bad thing is soon i wont be able to tell people that i'm new in order to get them to stop giving me a hard time. bastards, dont treat me like i'm profoundly retarded when i announce that i'm not sure exactly how to do somehting so it'll be just a minute while i figure it out. people are just so fucking grumpy and "gimme, gimme right NOW!" its been 4 shifts and i already have stories. i will say this though, the apologetic, conversational, funny people totally make up for the crazies. also, add the fact that none of my managers care about my piercings/tattoos and i'm pretty damned happy.
i think that's it for the update.
basically, to sum it up: i am not dead.