Good morning beautiful
Click to viewWhy am I awake?
One word: Tanji.
I love Tina Fey.
Lindsay you were right, she was perfect.
Umm... This month has sucked. Yes, yes it has.
But I'm pretty sure everything will be alright. I wish my car was stolen. Two hundred fucking dollars. That's a lot for me. Campus Crossings and I just can't seem to get along. I owe one money, and then the one on 8th street has my shit towed. Fuck them. When all the students are out for summer I am going to burn that shit down. And then I'll burn the west side one as well. Okay the last thing I need is bad karma. Argh. My mom was straight with me. She said I needed to find a new job. Now. I didn't say anything. I let the silence eat up the hostility in her tone. "Did you hear me Amanda?" She was not a happy little camper. "Yeah. I hear you." She turned soft again, "Manny you have to. You can do anything I don't know why you're settling for such a low paying job." More quiet. Yeah. I do hear her. But I love Metro, that I do. Why am I up? Well the damn dog lost her mind. It's windy and there is a full moon. She jumps out of my window. I woke up from a dead sleep and started yelling, "Tanji? Taaaaannnnnnjiiiii?" I found her and got her back inside. However I was pissed so I slammed my door on her. Bad move. She woke up everyone in the house. Jesse lets her outside. Now I can't get her back in. She is sitting in the backyard basking in the fucking moonlight. I can't go to bed with her outside, I simply cannot, AND I can't wrestle her up in my arms like I used to (bad hips). So here I fucking am. I suppose I'll burn a new CD and make some coffee. It's beautiful outside, I can't really be too mad at her. Plus it's not as if I didn't get enough sleep yesterday. I am on the outs with Mack Shack. I refused to go in because I clearly let my boss know the days I was willing to work and she just doesn't give a fuck. So I stayed home yesterday. I took my phenobarbital for my spasm. I was in a horizontal position most of the day, watching football. That is how is should be on a fucking Sunday. I cleaned up. I folded some laundry. I watched giant men crash into one another. I listened to the familiar voices of John Madden and Al Micheals. I did nothing. Do you know how wonderful a day off is? A day where you don't have school, or work, or anything? It's fucking fantastic.
I want to buy Jeremy's Honda. It's green. It's standard. It's made for me. There is just one problem: I don't know how to drive stick.
So last night he took me driving. I don't want to say I'm bad-- but I don't want to say I'm good either. It doesn't help when I think that 1st gear is 3rd gear. Yeah, that is pretty bad. The starting is the easy part, it's the fucking shifting that gets me. When he fixes his other car I am getting this damn Honda. I love it. It reminds me of Ricky. Of Lacey. Of all these weird happy memories and I want him (the car is masculine)! With that said: Do I have to find a better job? Probably. But I keep thinking, not again. What a fucking thing to do. Come back just to leave again. I don't want to do that to them. I'm trying to figure out if I could get something else part time or what. I don't know. Nkoli is getting paid $30 an hour. No joke.
In other news: Glenn, our personal savior and handyman, fixed the toilets! It made me think about my family and the friends we've got. There aren't many, but the ones that have stuck around are always there for us. He's going to fix the cooler too.
Lelaine's birthday was fun, but I was tired. There was a jumping castle. Essence kept trying to coax me inside. I'd break the thing. Kids are amazing. Really, they are. Lelaine's grandma was telling us a story about Lelaine opening all her presents and finally looking up at her Nana to say, "No more shit Nana. No more." She's four. She has a little Spanish accent and she speaks one language-- a mixture of Spanish, English, and Jibberish. She is a born athlete though. The best hand eye coordination I've ever seen on a kid. I could use some of it for my standard driving. Oy vey. I like Rosa's family. It's loud and huge and foreign-- just like ours. They make me feel all kinds of warm and welcome. I need to get my Spanish in check though! Speaking of which I have some homework I better finish up because class. The sun's creeping up. I need coffee immediately. My dog is still stretched out in all of her glory. Goodness. Ha. I just looked at my get up. I've my hair in French braids, my marijuana boy shorts (white with little green leafs all over), and a tank top. This is why I'm hot. This is why I'm hot. This is why, this is why, this is why I'm hot.
Lindsay- despite the the mishap Saturday morning, I had fun with you Friday. I enjoyed dinner. Although I regret talking politics with your Madre because I basically called your parents old and decrepit. I had fun in the pet store (I think I want that snake). And I had fun hanging out on your balcony until two. Your apartments are a bit crazy. I feel like I'm fourteen when I'm there, but I wasn't up to the shenanigans of a regular fourteen year old I guess. Anyway, I still wish my piece of shit Dodge had been stolen. But then you've got to ask who in their right mind would want to steal that? Apparently no one.
It really is beautiful outside. I wish it would just stay like this, stuck in this, for the whole day.
Have a good day for me.
Bye bye Lehman brothers.
And...to the man who was ref for the Chargers game...tsk, tsk.
That was bullshit.
That had to be about money.
I don't even understand how it was a legitimate call.
Someone explain that to me; please.
The fucking Broncos should have lost.