December 14
What you're not seeing: the gigantic glass of cider by my right hand. That's why I look so smirky and self satisfied.Wookies:
I'm obsessed with the Chewbacca thing. This morning, as we were dressing I said to Nick "I still can't believe there's a Chewbacca planet!" Nick replies "Well, where did you think he would come from??"
"Chewbacca HAS no planet! Chewbacca is of the GALAXY!"
He gave me that look. I definitely deserved it. Sometimes I'm so retarded I astound myself.
Okay, well, wait. Maybe "obsessed with the Chewbacca thing" is an overstatement. I'm not really a woman obsessed. That would be weird and scary. "Dana likes tall and hairy beings, more bear than man!" which doesn't bode well for Nick, who is tall [compared to me], but not hairy.
What I am obsessed with is mulled hot apple cider. I carry packets of mulling spices in my pockets. I stalk around the vending machines to find apple juice. The odd thing about this is that I loathe apple juice. Won't touch the stuff. Under any circumstances. It's typical of me to love drinks seasonally. I went through a period of drinking 10 glasses of chai tea latte a day for about three months. On vacation, I will drink nothing but pink lemonade. Eggnog is only good in December & the beginning of January (rum, on the other hand, is good year round. The more the better, as far as I'm concerned).
So, yeah, I carry a packet of mulling spices and stick the whole mess in the microwave and it's great. Stop laughing at me. I'm just as god made me, sir. WhatEVER, white people.
Pithy Words from BS:
1.) When something is broken, they insist on fixing it. When something is not broken, they insist on fixing it.
2.) I've had such a bad two weeks, things coming and going out of me so quickly...and not everything natural, that I decided I needed a treat! Cheesecake. Mmm...this might put the meat on my bones. Have you noticed how skinny I look?
Demoted at Nicole's Party:
There's a person who used to work here on the floor, I'll call her Demoted. Demoted was removed from her position because she was simply not bright enough to keep up with the lab work and was placed in a job with, I don't know, Hazardous Waste or something. Demoted delivers the packages shipped on dry ice. So, Demoted used to work up here, she doesn't anymore. I don't miss her. I never much loved her because she's one of those people who just tries too fucking hard.
Demoted tries too hard to be your buddy and to be one of the gang and wants desperately to be hip and young and fresh and cool and whatever. Demoted is none of these things. Nicole hangs out with her occasionally for some reason only known to her. Pity? I have no idea. (this is the kind of person she is: Shows up at Nicole's party with a big bottle of some kind of cheap, fruity wine. [not that i've got anything against cheap, fruity wine, mind you.] Presents it to Nicole. When asked "what do you want to drink?" says "Gimme the cheap, fruity wine I brought!" Well, what the fuck didja bring wine only you were going to drink? I can't stand when people do that.
Anyway, she's pretty clueless. ("But she has really great sex!" said Gina, in the kitchen. "How on earth do you know?" I asked. "well, because every time I see her, she tells me how great it is". I snorted: "Of course, you know that that means she's dry as hell and he only ever gets semi hard.") I was talking to people about my 30th Birthday Party Where The Band I Love, Big Head Todd and The Monsters are going to play. Nicole said "God, she's inviting everyone on the floor.." Demoted looked up, and in an injured voice said "You didn't invite me!"
"Uhh...because you don't work on the floor anymore?""But, I always see you in the mail room, and I always say how much weight you've lost and how skinny you look!"
This, she says to a full room of people. I mean, what the fuck? What kind of a stupid thing is that to say? I'm sure, much like BS she thought she was being oh-so-charming and hilarious, like "Look at me, I'm rail thin and titless, I'll be generous to the little butterball.." To a full room of people. It would be like me going up to her while she was hanging out with all of her super cool Hazardous Waste friends and saying:
Hey there! Wow. Your skin is really clearing up! And your hair, it's not nearly as greasy looking as it used to be.
Then going to a party and saying, in front of a dozen people:
"Demoted, what are you bitching about? I told you the scent of your yeast infection was barely noticeable now that you've switched to scented medication!"Okay, perhaps that a tad extreme, but seriously I hate when people say stupid shit trying to be all cute.
And she wonders why she has to try so hard to make friends. God, I didn't even mention her boyfriend, Flat Affect. All you need to know about him that his nick name doesn't tell you is that he looks like a member from one of those super wimpy 80's bands like Mister Mister. Oh, and he can't get a full erection. (note: that piece of info entirely supplied by me. Just looking at him, you can tell it's true.)
Look! It's My Boyfriend:
This is the oft mentioned nephew who loves me more than he loves Barney, but probably not quite as much as the Pink Power Ranger, who I always have to be when I go over there, because I'm a girl. The very fact that I'm falling apart about my nephew's crush on me, I think, proves beyond a shadow of a doubt that I am, indeed, a girl. That and the boobs.
It seems sort of sick and wrong to be mentioning Andy and my boobs in the same sentence. I meant in in the most Aunt-ly way possible.
So, this is my man. Don't mess with him, I'll have to hurt you. When you love me so much you can not speak, well, then, I'll consider leaving him for you.
Fucking Diary L (I know I promised not to talk about this anymore, but REALLY PEOPLE. I can't be the only one wanting them all to swallow a bullet:
These people are worse than BS. Jesus jumped up, I have never in my almost 29 years witnessed a more self absorbed group of people. Some dude sent out a full three paragraphs yesterday, which read something like this:
I sit, staring at your hot, heaving bosom. My tongue lolls to the side, one perfect, round, droplet of saliva falls....
.....my hands dig into the small of your back....
Don't you wish I was even remotely sincere in what I say?
Joe Asshole
www.ikeepajournaltonailchicks.comSo there was THAT crap. Then, today, the ongoing fucking discussion of WHEN these women get their periods, how OFTEN, when it's expected NEXT, how SEX FEELS when they get it, when they FIRST got it. It never fucking ends. It's an ongoing discussion of:
1.) menstruation [a real quote, from a letter in my inbox: "My cycle's been thrown out of whack a few times in my lifetime...and since, as you say, PMS *does* mirror pregnancy symptoms pretty closely..]
2.) the "creepy feeling" someone got when their "insane ex lover" found their URL and the 1000 messages both for and against changing the URL to keep insane ex lover away.
3.) flowery people writing "very special entries about the smell of rain!" and begging everyone to read them.
4.) new people introducing themselves.
5.) 1000 people saying hello to the new person
6.) "does someone have a cached copy of my index page? my insane and evil ex-lover must have hacked into it and changed it because it's gone now and all that's there is a picture of _____ [take your pick]"
7.) some ass monkey wanting to start another web ring or ANOTHER web burb "This one is for women, like me, who were left by their lovers for another journal keeper after he said that I couldn't bother getting out of bed to wash my cooter more frequently than every week or so, but he didn't understand, that bastard, that I'm agoraphobic and....oh, well, The burb will be for Strong Wymyn Like Me. I'll call it SWLM. Any interest?"
8.) People who post 100 messages a day, saying "hi! Im at work and bored!" each and every time.
9.) "I get 10 hits a day! Then, I was linked to losers.org, and I got 20 hits a day for a while, but then it dropped back to 10. Please go look at my Very Special Page, entitled "Feeding the Loser in Me". Leave a message on my interactive, musical midi forum!
and lastly:
10.) "Well, I know my journal sucks and all, but..."
I think Scott has the right idea. Direct all this retarded list mail to a hotmail account, check it once every few days (i.e.: delete, delete, delete. repeat 1567 times) leave real email account for real email. From people who don't make me want to fling myself in front of a Town Car.
yesterday/home/email/tomorrow: warning, I might not update tomorrow. If I go shopping with Nicole, nuts to it. You'll all have to wait till Thursday for more love from me.
Someone wrote me in response to what I'd written about Yellowman yesterday. He mentioned a name I've not thought of in years: Shabba Ranks.
He's definitely more ugly than Yellowman, because he's got such a sleazy persona. His ugliness was made crystal clear one night at a Shinehead show (you all had no idea I was so into Dancehall reggae, did you?). Anyway, I was dancing, probably lit out of my mind, when I felt hands upon my being. I whirled around, only to find it was Shabba. I was so stunned, I simply turned back around and kept dancing, and he kept his hands on my ass until I went for more beer. [or whatever] Despite his groping of me (or perhaps because of it), I still screamed my brain off when he got up on stage. The song "Wicked in Bed" is pretty hot. So is "Bedroom Bully". Do you see a theme? Shut up, Dana.
On the other hand, Shaggy is a babe.
