..
Goooooood...well. Night, apparently.
I fell asleep reading Clockwork Prince. I am having trouble getting back into that series. I think I have gone too long since Clockwork Angel, and my anticipation has gone. I am hoping something happens soon or I will die of boredom.
I enjoy listening to this song. I like to dance to it. It brings out the unbridled joy I used to feel when I danced. It's an orchestrated piece called Kingdom Dance. I've been into musical scores, lately. I've gotten good at playing the game of, "What movie is that from?" always seem to tick Tara off when I come out the winner.
Life has been...weird, lately. I've been doing well. But in some parallel dimension it doesn't seem like I have. I sort of feel like I did when I was in Job Corps. When Chance and Quinteze left campus. Phai and Tristan quit. And Marcus. And Julian wont come back because his English is broken and he is closer to Phai than anyone else. Phai came back to the store to talk to me. It was good to see him again, but I was still sad to see him go. We were good, working together. Time went by, I feel like I've learned a lot from him. But Steve running him and Marcus into the ground, and Rachael being...well, Rachael. In that retrospect, I am glad he has left. Both he and Tristan want to keep in touch after the fact, so. I think in that respect, I have gained friends.
Tristan did a photoshoot this past Saturday, where he had to come up with the concept of the shoot, versus the agency or the photographer. The results were fabulous! He looked amazing in my opinion. It was sort of Urban Jungle-esque. I always have something to say about what Tristan wears, because he looks like he just walked off a runway. I threatened to kidnap him to take me shopping. I actually bought a cute vintage vest because it reminded me of him.
I did go shopping yesterday. It was my day off. I got all my errands done early, then Ariel and I decided we were going to enjoy it. And we did. We went to a few shops, then we went to a mall. She hit up a consignment shop to find a few designer items for cheap, and I found a sleeveless ribbed berry-colored turtleneck I love. A few other tops, and a lightly scented moisturizer for my skin since it gets hot and dry out there in the world.
I thought of Michael. I sorely miss him, and I hope he is doing well. Every time I pick up my phone to call, I hesitate. I was welcomed to call, but it's odd. I know what I want to say, how I want to articulate and sincerely convey my thoughts. But my mouth doesn't open. And then I just sigh and put my phone down. Some friend I am.
I've had some crazy encounters, too. Even today, I was subjected to teenaged idiocy when three highschoolers milled around the bus stop, discussing how hardcore they were in their so-called sex lives (Much eyerolling). Then one of the guys asked if I liked to suck dick. I asked him if he wanted his ass to be kicked. We exchanged a few sarcastic remarks where he persisted to sexually harass me. I told him I'd fracture the wall of the bus stop with his head if he touched me before I told him that this was him, - Held left hand low - and this was me, - Held right hand waay high -, and that he needed to drop some balls, grow up, shut up, and quit being a douchebag. Their bus arrived by then, and they got on looking a little more than miffed.
A few days earlier, I had gotten off the Trolley at Central, and was waiting to cross an intersection when from my left, I heard someone yell, "YYYYEAAAAHHHHH! I'M REAAADDDYYY!" In a reaally deep voice. Some guy came tearing down the street on his bike, yelling this over and over again. It was sort of dark, because all I really saw was his blinking red light on his bike. Then he circled me a few times, growling, then he took off down Central, bobbing and weaving through the sidewalks and the street, screaming again. @_@
I also have had a run in three with Jehova's Witnesses. I think one of them seduced me with her good looks to get one of her little Magazines about how to find a job and keep one. Only the first two pages mentioned jobs. The next page was an article about whether I should fear Armageddon, and then talked about places in England, India, and had recipes. It was just random.
Talking to Ryan, now. He's Australian. He records songs in different voices--usually an asian voice--and it cracks me up every time. Since I almost moved to Australia with mom, and Kane and I were going to Honeymoon there after we got married, I'm pretty fascinated with the place. I like to hear him talk about his home, the kids he teaches. His voice has an odd lisp to it that is quite endearing. It's not Australian, or New Zealandy, or even British. It reminds me of Jaylon's accent, and he's from the Caribbean. Either way, he's nice. I enjoy talking to him with our flip-flopped schedules. He keeps me sane in a sea of madness.
I still feel weird. I'm here, and things are going well. But some part of me feels disconnected. Maybe I am just sad that I made friends at work, and they are no longer there. It was their choice to leave, and my choice to stay. I suppose that's selfish.
Sigh.
C'est la vie.
I am going to bed. Take it easy.
I fell asleep reading Clockwork Prince. I am having trouble getting back into that series. I think I have gone too long since Clockwork Angel, and my anticipation has gone. I am hoping something happens soon or I will die of boredom.
I enjoy listening to this song. I like to dance to it. It brings out the unbridled joy I used to feel when I danced. It's an orchestrated piece called Kingdom Dance. I've been into musical scores, lately. I've gotten good at playing the game of, "What movie is that from?" always seem to tick Tara off when I come out the winner.
Life has been...weird, lately. I've been doing well. But in some parallel dimension it doesn't seem like I have. I sort of feel like I did when I was in Job Corps. When Chance and Quinteze left campus. Phai and Tristan quit. And Marcus. And Julian wont come back because his English is broken and he is closer to Phai than anyone else. Phai came back to the store to talk to me. It was good to see him again, but I was still sad to see him go. We were good, working together. Time went by, I feel like I've learned a lot from him. But Steve running him and Marcus into the ground, and Rachael being...well, Rachael. In that retrospect, I am glad he has left. Both he and Tristan want to keep in touch after the fact, so. I think in that respect, I have gained friends.
Tristan did a photoshoot this past Saturday, where he had to come up with the concept of the shoot, versus the agency or the photographer. The results were fabulous! He looked amazing in my opinion. It was sort of Urban Jungle-esque. I always have something to say about what Tristan wears, because he looks like he just walked off a runway. I threatened to kidnap him to take me shopping. I actually bought a cute vintage vest because it reminded me of him.
I did go shopping yesterday. It was my day off. I got all my errands done early, then Ariel and I decided we were going to enjoy it. And we did. We went to a few shops, then we went to a mall. She hit up a consignment shop to find a few designer items for cheap, and I found a sleeveless ribbed berry-colored turtleneck I love. A few other tops, and a lightly scented moisturizer for my skin since it gets hot and dry out there in the world.
I thought of Michael. I sorely miss him, and I hope he is doing well. Every time I pick up my phone to call, I hesitate. I was welcomed to call, but it's odd. I know what I want to say, how I want to articulate and sincerely convey my thoughts. But my mouth doesn't open. And then I just sigh and put my phone down. Some friend I am.
I've had some crazy encounters, too. Even today, I was subjected to teenaged idiocy when three highschoolers milled around the bus stop, discussing how hardcore they were in their so-called sex lives (Much eyerolling). Then one of the guys asked if I liked to suck dick. I asked him if he wanted his ass to be kicked. We exchanged a few sarcastic remarks where he persisted to sexually harass me. I told him I'd fracture the wall of the bus stop with his head if he touched me before I told him that this was him, - Held left hand low - and this was me, - Held right hand waay high -, and that he needed to drop some balls, grow up, shut up, and quit being a douchebag. Their bus arrived by then, and they got on looking a little more than miffed.
A few days earlier, I had gotten off the Trolley at Central, and was waiting to cross an intersection when from my left, I heard someone yell, "YYYYEAAAAHHHHH! I'M REAAADDDYYY!" In a reaally deep voice. Some guy came tearing down the street on his bike, yelling this over and over again. It was sort of dark, because all I really saw was his blinking red light on his bike. Then he circled me a few times, growling, then he took off down Central, bobbing and weaving through the sidewalks and the street, screaming again. @_@
I also have had a run in three with Jehova's Witnesses. I think one of them seduced me with her good looks to get one of her little Magazines about how to find a job and keep one. Only the first two pages mentioned jobs. The next page was an article about whether I should fear Armageddon, and then talked about places in England, India, and had recipes. It was just random.
Talking to Ryan, now. He's Australian. He records songs in different voices--usually an asian voice--and it cracks me up every time. Since I almost moved to Australia with mom, and Kane and I were going to Honeymoon there after we got married, I'm pretty fascinated with the place. I like to hear him talk about his home, the kids he teaches. His voice has an odd lisp to it that is quite endearing. It's not Australian, or New Zealandy, or even British. It reminds me of Jaylon's accent, and he's from the Caribbean. Either way, he's nice. I enjoy talking to him with our flip-flopped schedules. He keeps me sane in a sea of madness.
I still feel weird. I'm here, and things are going well. But some part of me feels disconnected. Maybe I am just sad that I made friends at work, and they are no longer there. It was their choice to leave, and my choice to stay. I suppose that's selfish.
Sigh.
C'est la vie.
I am going to bed. Take it easy.