(no subject)
so my new coworker Amanda is going to help us find an apartment. hot diggity dog, man. hot diggity dog. apparently, the only one who isn't appalled to know that we pay $900 a month to Stumpy Pigpen for the royal privilege of living in his back bedroom is... well, Stumpy Pigpen. except. i haven't paid SP my portion of last months rent yet. and... well, it was Mother's Day Weekend and it looks like he won't be getting this month's either. i'm a horrible person. i know i know i know. i'm learning to live with it.
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my life has become generally weird, and J is the reason why. what is the deal with this dude? i am seriously confused because the longer we talk, the closer we become and by God it's just fucking strange.
i am depressed though. this i know for sure. i can not sweat ridiculous things like this when i'm not depressed. but right now, i am. i am broke. zero dollars always leaves me depressed. i hate it. and i'm whining about it. i do that a lot when i'm depressed, too. so?!
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so Thursday, Maisha had issues and didn't show up for work. this meant that i was required to become Glen's keeper. i don't do 'keeper' very well, but hey, they caught me on a good day. Glen decided that, since he's leaving in June, it might maybe be a great idea to start advertising in the papers about the new positions available at the institute. lovely. except Glen had never done this before and so left it to me to figure it out. fun.
what it basically boiled down to was prioritizing. Kendric's little project of data mining got pushed to the side because well... hello, Glen is more important. well Kendric decided to be a little bitch, and... i'm whining again. how is this important? it's not. moving on.
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let's see. Friday, Barb decided that she wanted to talk to J. eh sure, why not, that fool doesn't do anything anyway, so like, have at him. but i felt weird. i still do. i thought it was because i was going all possessive again, but that's not it. it hit me that i'm weirded out because this is the last barrier, for the most part. once Barb acknowledges a person in my life, it's all over. J is in. for better or for worse. it's like i'm stuck with him now. i want to end this so badly. there is no logical reason in the world to keep him around.
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so in keeping with kicking J out of my life, i went shopping for his kid on Saturday. what's worse, i called his wife to get the dirt on the munchkin. what madness is this?
the munchkin, a.k.a. my Vicarious Mocha Baby
but i did not know that they made jeans for babies. what's more, i didn't know the clothing was SO DAMNED CUTE. so i bought him stuff. and today, i'm perusing Fisher Price toys. on purpose. hello. somebody just shoot me now.
______________________
on Saturday, we went back to my home of Pasadena. this place calls to me. we went to the art show opening of some obscure artist or other, and after getting pleasantly hopped up on chardonnay and nibbling soft cheese spread on sourdough bread, we walked through the place and marvelled at the confidence of the artist in charging $8000 for a 20x20 poster of his adolescent doodling. i'm making fun of him. and i shouldn't, because i thought a lot of his art was really striking. except the doodles. that i can't get with.
after the perusing of the art, we sat outside at the dusty tables and talked about whatever drunk people talk about when they are relaxed and feeling artsy. and then we walked around Pasadena and got drunk some more at a bar where we consoled a heartbroken bartender. i thought perhaps it should have been the responsibility of the bartender to do the consoling, but i was drunk and so found a little compassion.
i wanted to get more ear piercings, but alas the weekend was about Barb, not me, and fundage was short. so. next time. i think that i am becoming a masochist or something because although i dread it, there is a part of me that is looking forward to the pain. good grief. how self pitying. i know my issues. i am looking to punish myself, and inflicting physical pain seems to be the perfect way to do it. so, in a way, i am happy that i didn't have it done. no sense getting all pierced up for the wrong reasons.
______________________
yesterday, Stumpy Pigpen, for whatever reason, decided that he might maybe want to help Barb celebrate Mother's Day, which i, of course, had a huge problem with. every damned thing the man does annoys me. we escaped a family shindig, by the skin of our teeth because The Dona decided to bless Uncle John's Mother with her presence, thereby depriving us. Then, Stumpy got tired of waiting for us and decided to find his amusements elsewhere.
we immediately went out to celebrate these unfortunate events with copious amounts of rum at a steak and bar restaurant. the steak was horrible, but the rum and champagne was excellent and so Barkley's of South Pasadena gets a total 10.
we then drove over to Santa Monica and ogled the few cute Chocolate boys we could find. we tried to track one down, but he disappeared before we could get back to him. Barb was very sad. Alas.
but ho! what's this? Brazil Night at The Temple? yes, please, thank you, don't mind if i do. and more champagne and rum, if you don't mind. we stomped our feet and shook our hips to bongo/congo drums and bells and various other instruments i don't remember and helped the Brazilians celebrate the sensuality gods and Mother Earth. there were other, deeper things going on, but of course, since i am so not a Brazilian it was lost on me. i felt bad about that.
Omar will be at Temple in two weeks. i am sad that i will not go because i will be in San Diego at some family reunion or other.
huh. should be interesting.
______________________
i think that i must be PMS'ing. i am not sure because it hardly ever happens. but what other explanation could there be for these wild emotions i'm being subjected to?
______________________
Marquita. i am so sincerely sorry. i am a sucky friend. i know.
______________________
my life has become generally weird, and J is the reason why. what is the deal with this dude? i am seriously confused because the longer we talk, the closer we become and by God it's just fucking strange.
i am depressed though. this i know for sure. i can not sweat ridiculous things like this when i'm not depressed. but right now, i am. i am broke. zero dollars always leaves me depressed. i hate it. and i'm whining about it. i do that a lot when i'm depressed, too. so?!
______________________
so Thursday, Maisha had issues and didn't show up for work. this meant that i was required to become Glen's keeper. i don't do 'keeper' very well, but hey, they caught me on a good day. Glen decided that, since he's leaving in June, it might maybe be a great idea to start advertising in the papers about the new positions available at the institute. lovely. except Glen had never done this before and so left it to me to figure it out. fun.
what it basically boiled down to was prioritizing. Kendric's little project of data mining got pushed to the side because well... hello, Glen is more important. well Kendric decided to be a little bitch, and... i'm whining again. how is this important? it's not. moving on.
______________________
let's see. Friday, Barb decided that she wanted to talk to J. eh sure, why not, that fool doesn't do anything anyway, so like, have at him. but i felt weird. i still do. i thought it was because i was going all possessive again, but that's not it. it hit me that i'm weirded out because this is the last barrier, for the most part. once Barb acknowledges a person in my life, it's all over. J is in. for better or for worse. it's like i'm stuck with him now. i want to end this so badly. there is no logical reason in the world to keep him around.
______________________
so in keeping with kicking J out of my life, i went shopping for his kid on Saturday. what's worse, i called his wife to get the dirt on the munchkin. what madness is this?
the munchkin, a.k.a. my Vicarious Mocha Baby
but i did not know that they made jeans for babies. what's more, i didn't know the clothing was SO DAMNED CUTE. so i bought him stuff. and today, i'm perusing Fisher Price toys. on purpose. hello. somebody just shoot me now.
______________________
on Saturday, we went back to my home of Pasadena. this place calls to me. we went to the art show opening of some obscure artist or other, and after getting pleasantly hopped up on chardonnay and nibbling soft cheese spread on sourdough bread, we walked through the place and marvelled at the confidence of the artist in charging $8000 for a 20x20 poster of his adolescent doodling. i'm making fun of him. and i shouldn't, because i thought a lot of his art was really striking. except the doodles. that i can't get with.
after the perusing of the art, we sat outside at the dusty tables and talked about whatever drunk people talk about when they are relaxed and feeling artsy. and then we walked around Pasadena and got drunk some more at a bar where we consoled a heartbroken bartender. i thought perhaps it should have been the responsibility of the bartender to do the consoling, but i was drunk and so found a little compassion.
i wanted to get more ear piercings, but alas the weekend was about Barb, not me, and fundage was short. so. next time. i think that i am becoming a masochist or something because although i dread it, there is a part of me that is looking forward to the pain. good grief. how self pitying. i know my issues. i am looking to punish myself, and inflicting physical pain seems to be the perfect way to do it. so, in a way, i am happy that i didn't have it done. no sense getting all pierced up for the wrong reasons.
______________________
yesterday, Stumpy Pigpen, for whatever reason, decided that he might maybe want to help Barb celebrate Mother's Day, which i, of course, had a huge problem with. every damned thing the man does annoys me. we escaped a family shindig, by the skin of our teeth because The Dona decided to bless Uncle John's Mother with her presence, thereby depriving us. Then, Stumpy got tired of waiting for us and decided to find his amusements elsewhere.
we immediately went out to celebrate these unfortunate events with copious amounts of rum at a steak and bar restaurant. the steak was horrible, but the rum and champagne was excellent and so Barkley's of South Pasadena gets a total 10.
we then drove over to Santa Monica and ogled the few cute Chocolate boys we could find. we tried to track one down, but he disappeared before we could get back to him. Barb was very sad. Alas.
but ho! what's this? Brazil Night at The Temple? yes, please, thank you, don't mind if i do. and more champagne and rum, if you don't mind. we stomped our feet and shook our hips to bongo/congo drums and bells and various other instruments i don't remember and helped the Brazilians celebrate the sensuality gods and Mother Earth. there were other, deeper things going on, but of course, since i am so not a Brazilian it was lost on me. i felt bad about that.
Omar will be at Temple in two weeks. i am sad that i will not go because i will be in San Diego at some family reunion or other.
huh. should be interesting.
______________________
i think that i must be PMS'ing. i am not sure because it hardly ever happens. but what other explanation could there be for these wild emotions i'm being subjected to?
______________________
Marquita. i am so sincerely sorry. i am a sucky friend. i know.