December 8th, 2000

its thursday again..break it down , boys.

i ran into the postman again. i had a feeling i would see him this morning. the cab pulled up in front of my house, and i swear he times walking in front of my house with my arrival. anyway, so i say hi and he comes across the street and i talk about being sleepy from last night's all nighter of pool and beer at the HideOut. I drop some mail on the ground and he asks how old I am. I tell him in 22 and he asks if he can give me a massage. I tell him, im wise beyond my years and that I'm taken...i know exactly where those massages lead to! he says i can keep my shorts on. i tell him to behave and i walk inside with the excuse that i DIRELY need a nap.


so here i am, on the PC in the living room. it doesnt occur to anyone here that since i resigned..i just might be trying ot use that ibook to find a job..and that my resume is on the hard drive..and i sorta cant get out of everyone's hair here without sending it out...
so, im here on the PC checking email next to claires pager, and a half eaten cough drop on the desk, while wafts of nasty old cigarettes bombard my nostils from the ashtray in front of me.

and it make me even more irritated, ive been thinking about the swimsuit incident...
you know that rad army-kini i wore for bathtub poetry? well, i found where someone stashed it before the party. You know how theres that rat in the kitchen? well, hes sorta made a second home under the sink. there's rat droppings and nesting all under there. Well, thats where someone decided to hide my favorite swimsuit. no..they couldnt bring it up to my room..they had to shove it down with the disease under the sink.
i want that ibook so i can get outta here. if people here are so vindictive..at least aid me in escaping...really.

on a brighter note, its Jeramy's and my 6 month anniversary. whoohoo!