you want a little cheese

To go along with this whyyyiiiiiiine.

I'm ready to go home. I've done all the work I think I'm up to for the day, and I don't think I'll be doing any more.

I'm crampy and bitchy and I wanna go home.

Congress should pass a law that says whenever I want to (yes, this law only applies to me) I can go home, and still be paid for a full day's work. I'd be honest and stick around on days that i felt like it and do some shit, but when days like today came along, it would be perfectly legal for me to just go home.

It's not like I'm doing anything while I'm here, so I might as well enjoy myself elsewhere.

It was all bright and shiny outside today, but no. No sunshine for me. Flourescent lights and stagnant office funk for me. No pretty sun-lit tree leaves blowing gently in a pre-spring breeze. No. I get the drafty vents.

Fuck this man, I hate working.

I want to act or sing or just not work, and still be paid. There's a certian amount of accomplishment that goes hand in hand along with showing up to a job everyday, but shit, this isn't the life for me.

I have these holes in my gums where teeth once were, and they're pretty awesome. There's no teeth in them, so they never hurt or anything, but on cold days they get all cold and I can feel how hollow they are. It's creepy, but awesome at the same time.

I'm giving blood on thursday morning. I'm healthy and stuff, and my blood is awesome, so they'll like it. I might get a free starbucks coffee too, so that's pretty goddamn awesome too.

I'm just kind of rambling here, mostly because I think tonight is one of allison's overnight nights, and she needs shit to read, and this is shit. It' snot very good shit, it's just me rambilng over about how i need to write things that she can read, but whatever.

My skin is breaking out again. That's a disapointment. It had been so good for so long. Then, I start spewin more fucking blood out of this death star cunt of mine, and zits just start popping up outta nowhere.

I must look like a real geek at my desk today in front of my laptop with my new dollar stor reading glasses on, a half a ponytali keeping my barely-sholder length hair out of my face, my nails 80% painted, blue sweater on, intently staring at the screen.

Welcome to Geek City, population me.

I've been reading a lot more lately, which I think has made my brain start working properly again. Everyone needs to read more often, it really makes you smarter. I still have the attention span of an eight year old, but that hasn't changed or fluxuated signifignatly since I turned nine. Maybe when I turn 29 there'll be a difference. I felt smarter today as I read the journals of a couple of people who I consider to be good writers (in their journals anyway) and felt like my writing was slowly improving.

It hasn't, but you know, I like to feed my ego to make myself feel better sometimes. So long as I know the truth, that's all that matters.

So speaking of things that I truly do consider myself to be talnted at-- I didn't go to that scene study class that i mentioned in my livejournal. (i did go to the monolouge class on saturday, though, and wrote about that in the live journal) anyway, I didn't go to scene study.

I'm bummed about why too. I was at work until 5:30 last night. Fuck if that didn't completly fuck up my entire evening. I had to go to game stop to go pick up my birthday present from the game stop boys, and it wasn't even there. So I took a taxi, and got to gamestop at 6:45 for nothing at all. I was a little pissed. I could have saved a little time, and money and just gone straight to my lesson.

Well, that's okay, because I didn't really want to be in strange north philly neighborhood, alone, after dark anyway. Another time. I think I'll go on saturday (because there's no possible way I'll go on frank's birthday, no way, no how) and do my monolouge, and get some work in.

I'm nervous, but that'll be okay by saturday. I just have to stay calm, lol.

That is the dumbest thing I've said or written all day, lmao.

My feet are still sore. I won't be dancing for 3 hours for a good few months, lol. So, am I an alchoholic? Maybe. I don't really know. The only markers I have for people who drink are my grandfather and my mom. My mom doesn't drink at all. My grandfather drank, and drank, and drank. He was a rather functional alchoholic, and thankfully, I don't think I inherited that. I do share his trait of being a loud motherfucking drunk bitch. Well, pop pop wasn't a bitch, but you get my meaning.

I'm just a loud person in general, but my understanding of what alchohol does is that it amplifies your personality by making your natural defenses a little lower, and allowing you to relax and act like you wanna act. That makes some people loud, and other people shoot their dogs in the head.

I'm glad I'm loud.

I've been pre-occupied with this alchoholic thing since my mom called me a lush the other day. I don' tknwo if she was being sarcastic or whatever, but I took it personally and started anylizing my behavior. I drink alone at home sometimes. I do this mostly when I'm about to go out, so as I can get a free start-up buzz going, so I can save a couple of bucks while I'm out. A few times I just drank because I felt like it. I wasn't sad, or trying to make myself happier, I just felt like it. I like the way peach shnopps tastes (but not the way it's spelled apperently) so I like to just drink it straight. Its like candy.

I don't remember drinking enough of that in one sitting, alone in my apartment to really feel a buzz. I did drink a whole bottle of arbor mist while I was on the phone with Leighann, though. Heh. I was drunk afterwards, and danced and sang and whatnot in my apartment, and went to bed.

Oh my god.

Well, maybe I am an alchoholic, but unless it's fucking with my life, or my liver starts to bother me, I don't think I have any reason to be all like, "no more drinking for me." Plus, like I said yesterday, I'm 23. I'll drink as much as I wanna. I'm not puking, and hardly ever have a hangover worth mentioning. I've had a couple of headaches when I woke up, but never anything that had me close to convinced that I should call out of work, or take more than an extra strength tylenoal.

Is it 5 yet? Damn, man, I'm ready to go!

Frank is taking me to the supermarket to buy the stuff I'm gonna cook on valentines day. We're gonna have salmon and shrimp and potatoes and string beans and chocolate moosse. Mmmm. Sounds tasty.

okay, enough.

love and adoration,

pam