| Doctor Unheimlich has diagnosed me with Neko nioritis | |
| Cause: | genetic mutation |
| Symptoms: | occasional horn growth on forehead, chi imbalance, hairy legs, extra legs |
| Cure: | wake up and realise it was all just a dream |
7.25.2005
No Wonder I Feel Like Hell
7.15.2005
Smoke This in Hell
That's it!
I quit!
Smoking, that is.
I decided on Tuesday morning that I would attempt to quit smoking yet again. This time my chosen method is "cold turkey". I tried the patch thing at the beginning of the year, but it made me swell up!
The sudden decision to cease the habit was born of two factors. Primarily, I was broke. It was either gas to get to work for the rest of the week or 1 pack of Camels. As it was, I barely made it to work today. Another contributing factor was that I was starting to feel sick. I realized how unhealthy I am, despite being vegetarian. I can't run very far, I drink excessively and smoke. So, I figured that I will work on one vice at a time.
Cold Turkey is going to be difficult, especially with everyone in my family smoking. I have learned how to lessen the maddening craving through various breathing exercises and yoga muscle control. Talking about it is making me jonze.
I quit!
Smoking, that is.
I decided on Tuesday morning that I would attempt to quit smoking yet again. This time my chosen method is "cold turkey". I tried the patch thing at the beginning of the year, but it made me swell up!
The sudden decision to cease the habit was born of two factors. Primarily, I was broke. It was either gas to get to work for the rest of the week or 1 pack of Camels. As it was, I barely made it to work today. Another contributing factor was that I was starting to feel sick. I realized how unhealthy I am, despite being vegetarian. I can't run very far, I drink excessively and smoke. So, I figured that I will work on one vice at a time.
Cold Turkey is going to be difficult, especially with everyone in my family smoking. I have learned how to lessen the maddening craving through various breathing exercises and yoga muscle control. Talking about it is making me jonze.
7.08.2005
A Hell of a Lot Sooner
Well, speaking of nude photography, guess who just got herself a photographer! I met with someone on a professional level who wants to pay me for modelling. I also plan to apply here and, if things work out, I will have a regular photographer and a regular gig. We'll see what "develops". At the very least, I should be able to fund my next tattoo.
7.07.2005
Hell if I Know
Now that I'm home with a cold brew and a fresh pack of smokes, I shall continue my thoughts from the previous post. Let me preface by offering the following disclaimer. I am not a man hater. Sure, there are plenty and plenty of dirtbags out there, worthy of stereotyping and swift kicks to the groin. But, I happen to know a couple of genuinely great guys who are not necessarily the scum that their gender typifies. With that said...
I've had it up to here with "the dating game". Tired of shallow "hook-ups". Sick of trolling at bars. Fed up with giving out my phone number to no avail. For the time being, I quit. It's dildos and porn from here on out.
For starters, the whole thing with Van was basically out of pity and desperation. He wasn't what I would normally think of as "hot". The primary reasons that I gave him play in the first place was that, A: I was flattered that someone showed interest. B: He was recommended by my crush. He was fun to hang out with, and semi-decent in bed. (Although his porn collection would have put Mother Teresa to sleep.) When it became apparent that he had a "side project", I realized that I never had much interest anyway. I thought the man had nowhere else to go.
I've always been the kind of girl to go after something once I've decided that I want it. I just close my eyes and barrell through. I've also always been the kind of girl to shun the demure behaviour that women traditionally are taught to ascribe to. (Is that even a word?) I have no problem at all with making the first move on a man and maybe that's my problem.
The day before I left on vacation, I met a guy working at the book store. He and I had flirted once before and by the second visit, I was sure I had a good candidate. So, I asked him out to dinner. He was working late that night and unable to accept. On top of that, by the time I arrived home, he had moved to England. While in New Orleans, I got a call from him, advising me that my order had come in. When I asked him if that was the sole reason for his call, he flattered me with compliments and I swooned. We've been corresponding via email, but I'm not getting anywhere.
Nothing makes you feel like hot shit more than a trip to New Orleans. Everyone's on vacation, everyone's drunk and everyone's lookin' to score. I had a movie producer and a rock star in the same night. All hail the lust goddess Neko! Did I mention I had a great time? Upon returning to my home town, I thought I could stretch my luck. Ha ha.
Last Saturday night drove home, more than anything, what a sick game the bar scene is. The whole scenario was pathetic and depressing. The four of us arrive in a group and huddle together while casting glances around the room. I'm turned down flat by one mildly attractive jerk, hit on by a fellow who was so wasted, he couldn't remember me five paces later and end up with a guy that, of course, never called me the next day. And it wasn't that this guy was the man of my dreams. He was just what was settled for that night. It's just not right.
Another example of my over-eager drive to succeed. There's a really, really hot guy that works at the porn store. Perhaps I've mentioned him before. He acted like he might have been genuinely interested. He looks like my favorite male porn star - Rob Rotten. So, the last time I was in, I pronounced, "I'd really like to go out with you some time. Here's my new cell." No call. Did I read the signals wrong? Did I jump the gun? Does he have a girlfriend? Was I too direct? What in the Hell is up? He doesn't seem like the kind of guy to be scared off.
Well, that's it. Any guy who wants my digits is going to have to have the balls to man up and ask. I'm tired of waiting by the phone. I was talking to my cousin last night, whom I love in every sense of the word (Have you ever seen The Royal Tanabaums?) and he said, "We're just props, dear." My brother thinks it's funny - me hovering by the phone and wondering why it doesn't ring.
The problem is, I'm not the most social person in the world. How will I ever find some entertainment? Sure, a dildo will give you an orgasm and porn will bring the urge, but a fake dick won't kiss you, spank you, pull your hair, or give off the male phermones that I love so much. So what's next? Social clubs? Personal ads?
Maybe I'll just go into porn. I've been looking for a new career...
I've had it up to here with "the dating game". Tired of shallow "hook-ups". Sick of trolling at bars. Fed up with giving out my phone number to no avail. For the time being, I quit. It's dildos and porn from here on out.
For starters, the whole thing with Van was basically out of pity and desperation. He wasn't what I would normally think of as "hot". The primary reasons that I gave him play in the first place was that, A: I was flattered that someone showed interest. B: He was recommended by my crush. He was fun to hang out with, and semi-decent in bed. (Although his porn collection would have put Mother Teresa to sleep.) When it became apparent that he had a "side project", I realized that I never had much interest anyway. I thought the man had nowhere else to go.
I've always been the kind of girl to go after something once I've decided that I want it. I just close my eyes and barrell through. I've also always been the kind of girl to shun the demure behaviour that women traditionally are taught to ascribe to. (Is that even a word?) I have no problem at all with making the first move on a man and maybe that's my problem.
The day before I left on vacation, I met a guy working at the book store. He and I had flirted once before and by the second visit, I was sure I had a good candidate. So, I asked him out to dinner. He was working late that night and unable to accept. On top of that, by the time I arrived home, he had moved to England. While in New Orleans, I got a call from him, advising me that my order had come in. When I asked him if that was the sole reason for his call, he flattered me with compliments and I swooned. We've been corresponding via email, but I'm not getting anywhere.
Nothing makes you feel like hot shit more than a trip to New Orleans. Everyone's on vacation, everyone's drunk and everyone's lookin' to score. I had a movie producer and a rock star in the same night. All hail the lust goddess Neko! Did I mention I had a great time? Upon returning to my home town, I thought I could stretch my luck. Ha ha.
Last Saturday night drove home, more than anything, what a sick game the bar scene is. The whole scenario was pathetic and depressing. The four of us arrive in a group and huddle together while casting glances around the room. I'm turned down flat by one mildly attractive jerk, hit on by a fellow who was so wasted, he couldn't remember me five paces later and end up with a guy that, of course, never called me the next day. And it wasn't that this guy was the man of my dreams. He was just what was settled for that night. It's just not right.
Another example of my over-eager drive to succeed. There's a really, really hot guy that works at the porn store. Perhaps I've mentioned him before. He acted like he might have been genuinely interested. He looks like my favorite male porn star - Rob Rotten. So, the last time I was in, I pronounced, "I'd really like to go out with you some time. Here's my new cell." No call. Did I read the signals wrong? Did I jump the gun? Does he have a girlfriend? Was I too direct? What in the Hell is up? He doesn't seem like the kind of guy to be scared off.
Well, that's it. Any guy who wants my digits is going to have to have the balls to man up and ask. I'm tired of waiting by the phone. I was talking to my cousin last night, whom I love in every sense of the word (Have you ever seen The Royal Tanabaums?) and he said, "We're just props, dear." My brother thinks it's funny - me hovering by the phone and wondering why it doesn't ring.
The problem is, I'm not the most social person in the world. How will I ever find some entertainment? Sure, a dildo will give you an orgasm and porn will bring the urge, but a fake dick won't kiss you, spank you, pull your hair, or give off the male phermones that I love so much. So what's next? Social clubs? Personal ads?
Maybe I'll just go into porn. I've been looking for a new career...
Go To Hell
Everyone seems to want to piss me off lately. It's as if my list of associates has been gnawed on by a crack addicted beaver and there are very few people I'm still willing to speak with at this point.
"Van" is history. He took me out to see Land of the Dead weekend before last. When he called, I was eager to go because I'd just gotten back from New Orleans and was bored as Hell. Not only did he not tell me that he was bringing a friend, but the friend he chose to bring was someone that everyone knows I've had a crush on for about half my life! After the movie, the three of us went to a bar. The band sucked, the crowd sucked and the conversation was like a dead crack addicted beaver. The only good point was that I heard some great jokes from the bartender. I love jokes, especially dirty ones. Anyway, all Van talked about was how many cocktail waitresses he's gone out with and showed me a bite mark on his inner arm! He first said that he'd gotten the mark from another girl, and later changed his story....twice! Well, he can fuck off.
Next on my shit list is Bugs (who will heretofore be referred to as "the step"). This past Saturday night, I went out with her, her roommate, and another friend of theirs. It was like a weak-ass version of Sex in the City. Well, the step's roommate and friend (whom I'd never met prior) are both incredibly stuck up. We went to one bar and stood around like sheep. The three of them dressed identically, while I stuck out like a crack addicted beaver at a tuna convention. Not my kind of bar, not my kind of crowd. After last call, our group headed back to the step's posh new digs. On the way, I heard a guy say, "nice pants" to me and I responded with, "you wanna take them off me?" Consequently, each girl in the group now had a male escort back to the apartment.
The step always tells people that she is studying to be a lawyer. To my knowledge, she is actually studying to be a travel agent. Her roommate is apparently studying to be an anesthesiologist. So, the conversation was all about politics. One girl just sat in the corner and said nothing to anyone. One of the guys passed out on roommates bed. After he was kicked out, he left the apartment, and as far as I know, was picked up by the cops, because he was never found.
Let me get to the point of this little story. In the step's brand new, posh, downtown luxury apartment there exists one piece of furniture. This piece of furniture is a brand new beige couch, which I'm told cost in excess of $900. Roommate went on and on about how I was not to cause any damage to her precious couch. I assured both her and the step that they had my word no harm would come to the sole inhabitor of their living room. That should have been enough.
One of the fellows (not the one with the pants comment) and I were doing a little making out on said couch, but I had in mind that before anything messy went on, I would move us to the floor. Well, the roommate absolutely flipped out! I mean, really went gonzo. So, the step starts bitching me out! At one point, I said, "Yes mom." to her, as an attempt to hint that she was crossing the line. She responded, "Yes mom, nothing. This is my house!"
I've made up my mind not to speak to her again until the scabs on my elbows (where the skin rubbed off on her hardwood floor) heal. #1: Unless you can site specific examples of past indiscretion, my word should always be good enough. #2: I was incredibly humiliated and embarassed. #3: Never, ever pull rank with me!! Ever!!
So, the step can kiss my ass too. And her friends will never again have the pleasure of my company.
Let's see, who else pissed me off? Did I mention that my father took all my stuff, crammed it into plastic grocery bags and dumped it in the basement? That's another post unto itself.
"Van" is history. He took me out to see Land of the Dead weekend before last. When he called, I was eager to go because I'd just gotten back from New Orleans and was bored as Hell. Not only did he not tell me that he was bringing a friend, but the friend he chose to bring was someone that everyone knows I've had a crush on for about half my life! After the movie, the three of us went to a bar. The band sucked, the crowd sucked and the conversation was like a dead crack addicted beaver. The only good point was that I heard some great jokes from the bartender. I love jokes, especially dirty ones. Anyway, all Van talked about was how many cocktail waitresses he's gone out with and showed me a bite mark on his inner arm! He first said that he'd gotten the mark from another girl, and later changed his story....twice! Well, he can fuck off.
Next on my shit list is Bugs (who will heretofore be referred to as "the step"). This past Saturday night, I went out with her, her roommate, and another friend of theirs. It was like a weak-ass version of Sex in the City. Well, the step's roommate and friend (whom I'd never met prior) are both incredibly stuck up. We went to one bar and stood around like sheep. The three of them dressed identically, while I stuck out like a crack addicted beaver at a tuna convention. Not my kind of bar, not my kind of crowd. After last call, our group headed back to the step's posh new digs. On the way, I heard a guy say, "nice pants" to me and I responded with, "you wanna take them off me?" Consequently, each girl in the group now had a male escort back to the apartment.
The step always tells people that she is studying to be a lawyer. To my knowledge, she is actually studying to be a travel agent. Her roommate is apparently studying to be an anesthesiologist. So, the conversation was all about politics. One girl just sat in the corner and said nothing to anyone. One of the guys passed out on roommates bed. After he was kicked out, he left the apartment, and as far as I know, was picked up by the cops, because he was never found.
Let me get to the point of this little story. In the step's brand new, posh, downtown luxury apartment there exists one piece of furniture. This piece of furniture is a brand new beige couch, which I'm told cost in excess of $900. Roommate went on and on about how I was not to cause any damage to her precious couch. I assured both her and the step that they had my word no harm would come to the sole inhabitor of their living room. That should have been enough.
One of the fellows (not the one with the pants comment) and I were doing a little making out on said couch, but I had in mind that before anything messy went on, I would move us to the floor. Well, the roommate absolutely flipped out! I mean, really went gonzo. So, the step starts bitching me out! At one point, I said, "Yes mom." to her, as an attempt to hint that she was crossing the line. She responded, "Yes mom, nothing. This is my house!"
I've made up my mind not to speak to her again until the scabs on my elbows (where the skin rubbed off on her hardwood floor) heal. #1: Unless you can site specific examples of past indiscretion, my word should always be good enough. #2: I was incredibly humiliated and embarassed. #3: Never, ever pull rank with me!! Ever!!
So, the step can kiss my ass too. And her friends will never again have the pleasure of my company.
Let's see, who else pissed me off? Did I mention that my father took all my stuff, crammed it into plastic grocery bags and dumped it in the basement? That's another post unto itself.
7.01.2005
Hell and the 7 Joys
In response to a recent post by shenry, I thought I'd offer up a list of 7 simple pleasures in life that I, personally, enjoy. (in no particular order)
1. Eating Cheetos cheese off of my fingers.
2. Going out for Dim Sum or Sushi.
3. Crushing on rock stars.
4. Imagining suitable fates for people who piss me off.
5. Showers.
6. Opening envelopes with a letter knife.
7. Trying to guess foreign languages I overhear.
For those who have seen Amelie, I love the parts in that movie where the narrator lists each characters likes and dislikes. I like to bury my hands in buckets of dried beans too, just like Amelie
1. Eating Cheetos cheese off of my fingers.
2. Going out for Dim Sum or Sushi.
3. Crushing on rock stars.
4. Imagining suitable fates for people who piss me off.
5. Showers.
6. Opening envelopes with a letter knife.
7. Trying to guess foreign languages I overhear.
For those who have seen Amelie, I love the parts in that movie where the narrator lists each characters likes and dislikes. I like to bury my hands in buckets of dried beans too, just like Amelie
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