July 10th, 2007
17.
Nick has a little cone around his head to keep him from scratching his little scratchy places. I wonder which parasites have made a snack of his adorable fuzzy body. I feel bad for Nick. He just really really wants to go up the stairs. Every time I see him he wants to go up the stairs. But he is tugged back into the office from whence he came by his shy handler, clumsy cone and all.
My building smells like air conditioning and sea salt and plants.
Building 4 smells like new car.
Building 3 smells like lavender soap.
The hydrangeas between 4 and 5 are the biggest and softest. Bright blue alien flowers.....there is a little cafe table for me to eat my plant based lunches with them and the birches. Birches and hydrangeas and slate walkways and sponge grass and various other alien shrubs.
It's a garden that you would find at Helmholtz Watson's house.
You would sit and have tea with him and John the Savage...discuss Betas and Soma and shit.
I like to watch the deer women click around pathways (never the sponge grass) with their wobbly bambi legs and nervous doe eyes. They're oblivious to the amazing mini pamplemousses and always confused as to where the audition is being held.
Which building is such and such casting held in? ( no please or excuse me, mind you)
Well I don't really know. Many of these offices are temporary...used for production and casting. They change all the time. I would go and check with Megan in Building 3...past the mail room blah blah blah
Sigh. Thanks.
But they're not thankful, and I don't blame them. They're too busy hoping and praying to be
thin-enough-pretty-enough-quirky-enough-intelligent-enough to be thankful.
It's ok, I understand...but not really, and for that I am thankful.
When I was a little girl I use to think my mom's business offices looked like palaces, but they pale in comparison to mine.
Mine is a glass castle with martian foliage and marble floors and ocean air and comfortable chairs and a brand new MAC just for me.
There is royalty about, but you don't really see them too often. You mostly interact with the other servants and you know, like...hand maidens and shit.
We are a motley crew. We don't have to wear bras and we don't even have to wash our hair.
I pick and choose.
AHHH freedom!
Today we had a cartwheel contest and looked at genital tattoos. I like the boys in the office for their wit even though one of them constantly stares at my breasts. Jina is the other female and thankfully my friend. She's from Hong Kong and can speak Cantonese, Mandarin, and English fluently. She gave me a little doll named Bop N Beep on my first day and we talked about books and boys and music and clothes and drugs. I like her. I want to put her in my pocket so that I may take her home. I would keep her under my bed ( because she would fit) and feed her jellybeans and Sunny D.
All kinds of flavors too...
I can't believe I'm here in this magical city where anything is possible and everything is beautiful in every way possible and I'm living a life that I always imagined for myself. I'm surrounded by angels and not monsters so this urban paradise is living up to its name.
I miss you, though.
Oh, and as a side note, not to be petty, but I thought about it today...and it bothered me so...for the record:
"Do we HAVE to do this?"
Actually bitch, no. We don't.
You are not a lady, hardly a badass and your paintings won't sleep with you like a puppy at night.
F.Y.motherfuckin I.
Ok.
Nick has a little cone around his head to keep him from scratching his little scratchy places. I wonder which parasites have made a snack of his adorable fuzzy body. I feel bad for Nick. He just really really wants to go up the stairs. Every time I see him he wants to go up the stairs. But he is tugged back into the office from whence he came by his shy handler, clumsy cone and all.
My building smells like air conditioning and sea salt and plants.
Building 4 smells like new car.
Building 3 smells like lavender soap.
The hydrangeas between 4 and 5 are the biggest and softest. Bright blue alien flowers.....there is a little cafe table for me to eat my plant based lunches with them and the birches. Birches and hydrangeas and slate walkways and sponge grass and various other alien shrubs.
It's a garden that you would find at Helmholtz Watson's house.
You would sit and have tea with him and John the Savage...discuss Betas and Soma and shit.
I like to watch the deer women click around pathways (never the sponge grass) with their wobbly bambi legs and nervous doe eyes. They're oblivious to the amazing mini pamplemousses and always confused as to where the audition is being held.
Which building is such and such casting held in? ( no please or excuse me, mind you)
Well I don't really know. Many of these offices are temporary...used for production and casting. They change all the time. I would go and check with Megan in Building 3...past the mail room blah blah blah
Sigh. Thanks.
But they're not thankful, and I don't blame them. They're too busy hoping and praying to be
thin-enough-pretty-enough-quirky-enough-intelligent-enough to be thankful.
It's ok, I understand...but not really, and for that I am thankful.
When I was a little girl I use to think my mom's business offices looked like palaces, but they pale in comparison to mine.
Mine is a glass castle with martian foliage and marble floors and ocean air and comfortable chairs and a brand new MAC just for me.
There is royalty about, but you don't really see them too often. You mostly interact with the other servants and you know, like...hand maidens and shit.
We are a motley crew. We don't have to wear bras and we don't even have to wash our hair.
I pick and choose.
AHHH freedom!
Today we had a cartwheel contest and looked at genital tattoos. I like the boys in the office for their wit even though one of them constantly stares at my breasts. Jina is the other female and thankfully my friend. She's from Hong Kong and can speak Cantonese, Mandarin, and English fluently. She gave me a little doll named Bop N Beep on my first day and we talked about books and boys and music and clothes and drugs. I like her. I want to put her in my pocket so that I may take her home. I would keep her under my bed ( because she would fit) and feed her jellybeans and Sunny D.
All kinds of flavors too...
I can't believe I'm here in this magical city where anything is possible and everything is beautiful in every way possible and I'm living a life that I always imagined for myself. I'm surrounded by angels and not monsters so this urban paradise is living up to its name.
I miss you, though.
Oh, and as a side note, not to be petty, but I thought about it today...and it bothered me so...for the record:
"Do we HAVE to do this?"
Actually bitch, no. We don't.
You are not a lady, hardly a badass and your paintings won't sleep with you like a puppy at night.
F.Y.motherfuckin I.
Ok.