I need another session with my bottle of Sun-In and my blowdryer. My hair color is looking ba-a-d. These brown roots aren’t mine, I swear. I don’t know why I’m on such a vanity kick these days. I used to put even more effort into my appearance, back when I cared what people thought of me.
I’m not drinking any coffee today, to see if that will give my stomach a little time to heal. It seems to be working so far, but as I haven’t eaten anything yet I cannot be certain. Anyway, I had to add 5 packets of sugar to the 16-ounce cup to make it palatable....that much sugar in the morning makes me more apt to eat later. And I cannot abide low-cal and calorie-free sweeteners.
The highlight of my day at work yesterday was watching a guy pound on the doors of the snack shop, yelling, “I just need a six-pack and a pack of Newports!” This was just as the shop was closing, and the guy thought this was utterly hilarious.
Dirk is getting the parts together to build me a speaker cabinet for my bass. I don’t remember the measurements, but it will need wheels to be easily moved, and will be too big to fit in the back seat of my car without damage. I’m betting that after I move out, we’re going to be selling off that old Cutlass and getting a van of some sort. Or getting a van along with the Cutlass. I hate driving bulky cars, because my depth-perception is faulty, at best. At worst...let’s just say that I’m not one of those people who turns left unless there’s an arrow or a mile-long clear space in the traffic.
But about the speaker cab. Dirk’s building it himself, for the estimated cost of $225. Given the size and quality of the speaker, it will be worth about three times that much. He’s also theoretically buying me a head, but I’m certain that’s going to wait a bit.
I called Dirk yesterday afternoon, but was unable to speak to him. That’s because Aaron’s been spoiling Dirk by bringing the phone to him when he wakes Dirk up, and his mother refused to do anything but yell, “Get the hell up, Dirk!”. Honestly, she can be irritating. So I didn’t get to talk to him, and finally just went over at 7:30. The reason Dirk wouldn’t haul his ass up off the bed was that he’d hung out with Jason and ‘Bert the night before, after I dropped him off.
I pouted for a while, then Aaron came in with a gift for Dirk. He’d bought Dirk a CD...Pink Floyd, “The Wall,” I think. He talked to us for a while, but got disgusted and left. I think Aaron has a severe problem picturing me performing any sexual act....yes, let your imagination fly. Dirk made the mistake of mentioning me in connection with said sexual act, and Aaron decided to leave.
I went home and went online, playing Marilyn Manson (AntiChrist Superstar) while I surfed. The stereo in my room has apparently found the Lord, because it refuses to recognize the existence of my CD. Bastard. I meant to stay up so I could talk to a couple people, but I woke up to find the screen saver on and the computer playing the eighth song on the CD. It was only about 11:00, but I decided that I’d better get to bed anyway.
I managed to refrain from sending a tearful, self-loathing e-mail to C–. I’m sticking to my guns. If he doesn’t e-mail me, I’m not going to e-mail him. I also don’t see how a long, tearful, self-loathing e-mail could possibly help matters.
The only parts I haven’t tweaked are the award page and the actual entries. The award page is a joke anyhow, so I don’t care to mess with the page design. The diary entries themselves are a daunting task. It’s going to be boring as hell...I’ll think about it.
(12:45 pm)At work we play a game called "Get the Candy". My supervisor, Rebecca, keeps two bowls of foil-wrapped chocolates on her desk. Sometimes it's just Hershey's Mineatures, but sometimes it's it's Belgian chocolate. Nobody takes the much-coveted candy from her desk when she's in her office. Instead, they watch like hawks for her to leave her desk. Then, they swoop for the kill, but only if there's no other employees around to see them. You can watch the candy disappear, seemingly by magic, at intervals throughout the day.
There are also more minor versions of the game played in this office. For instance, Gloria #1 keeps Lifesavers Creme Savers in an empty fishbowl. Strawberry and Orange. Gloria #2 sporadically puts 3-7 Hershey's Mineatures in a little heart-shaped candy dish. These are minor versions of the Big Game, because their candy isn't as enviable as Rebecca's is, but they are good training grounds. Their desks are at the very back of the maze of cubicles, so there's no reason for anyone to simply be wandering aimlessly back there.
You have to learn to listen for their voices and the telltale sounds of breathing. You learn to carry something with you, so that it looks as though you were running an errand but got mixed-up. It's boot camp for chocoholics.
I never do any of this, of course.
I forgot to mention the fact that I also began tweaking the Poison Ivy-Journals That Sting page. I made it a little easier to read, and I made the rules less nice (as in, I'm not even going to pretend that I have the type of patience required to gently remind people that they need to update/keep the html fragment on their page). Check it out on my link page, I'm too lazy to remember the addy.