mainsqueeze's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- chicks up front Dearest dear Crystal, Lets take a moment to praise god and the chairman of AOL for providing this wonderful and convenient medium of communication. Your new nickname, you, is Miss I-Never-Return-Phone-Calls. Or, Miss INRPC, for short. How d'ya like them apples? Tonight, I work the dreaded Grave Yard Shift. I hope the staff at Joker's Wild is willing to grant me the thirty thousand bathroom breaks I will no doubt need after consuming the fifteen-odd gallons of coffee required to keep me in a state of wakefulness. Well see. Maybe I'll take up calisthenics, so's that I can not only earn a paycheck, but also strengthen my weak and pudding-soft muscles while standing at the counter. Oy, and oy. I was planning on calling Bryant and asking him if he'd like to take in a movie with me this evening, but nobody answered the phone. A machine picked up, which meant, of course, that I quickly hung up in horror and shuddered at the prospect of leaving a message. Can you imagine the laugh they'd all have upon listening? "Um, er, hi, this is Angela calling for, um, I, um, Bryant, and I, um, I, I, um, thank you. Um, thanks. Yeah. So, call me, if you want. Bryant, I mean, although I suppose if anyone else gets bored and wants to call, that would be fine. Uh. Huh. Thank you. Have a good night. Bye." And we can be assured that somewhere in the middle of that disaster of a message, I'd either get horribly out of breath, or my voice would crack like a twelve year old boy's. So I left no message. I'll have to be content to wait for him to call me. My, oh my, do I wish you would call me and come and whisk me away to something, anything, anywhere else. I'm sick of the inside of this place. I think that someday when I'm rich and able to be "eccentric" rather than "insane" I'll pitch a tent in my massive backyard (next to the fountains and the koi pond) and spend my nights outside. With, of course, La Verne to keep me warm. God bless her. I voted today, and damn, do I feel like one righteous and conscientious citizen. Sure, my voting routine may not have been the best, but still. I voted Green whenever possible (I believe that I'm listed as a Green Party member. Gotta support my peeps. Yo.) and failing that, I voted for the female or minority candidates. And the Republicans are welcome to kiss my most puckery pink orifice, thankyouverymuch. Because I feel like it, I am copying a poem down for you. This is it: Mature, I suppose, I should speak, but what can I say to the kind of hostility that turns hair purple and lips black? Excuse me, I know I never pierced my nose, but hey, I was revolting once too? Back. Before I joined the PTA, when wonder bras meant "where'd I put that." And it goes on and on and gets wonderfuller and wonderfuller. I'm hungry now. Bye. -Angela 10:48 p.m. - 2002-11-05 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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