Set me free!

Are you ready?

I've been bustin' my arse all day :-P I so don't wanna be here. Don't get me wrong, I like the challenge this job provides me with, but I'm too excited about my after work plans to revel in enjoyment today. Plus yesterday kinda sucked here at work... mom's doing better, I guess. I'm excited about the damn weekend, and it's only tuesday. Thursday frank and I are gonna see baseball. That's exciting... dollar hot dog night! I think I may be more excited about getting hot dogs for a dollar at veterans stadium than I am about seeing my first Phillies night game.

So, as much as I adore office politics, struggling with deadlines, and attempting to help my co-workers cope with their day, I'd much rather be somewhere else. I want to be home, struggling with my door, and preparing for karaoke-- perhaps making mudslides for later.

Yummmm.

My day has been spent daydreaming of not being here-- sharing some hot dollar hot dogs with frank, and seeing the phillies whoop some boston ass... hopefully. As I trudged through various tourisim websites (that's for a project I'm doing, I wasn't goofing off), my thoughts floated away to seeing a movie this weekend, and laughing with friends. My body is here, but my brain is so already enjoying the weekend.

I'm going to call a travel agent tomorrow and start working on a vacation. I need to get away.

Hey-- Let me admit something to you guys. I spoke to Illy last night, and she told me that my Ex Boyfriend had attended her going-away soiree on saturday... the event that I was too retarded to attend. In hearing that he attended her party, I remembered that he isn't a -complete- asshole, and that I've been totally mean to him lately. Lately being like, two years.. perhaps longer?

I mean, the guy is a jerk, but he's human. I had to get my "I'm sorry" on for being a bitch to him for the past year, because I was starting to feel a little bad. I mean, he was nice enough to go to Ileana's going away party, so he must still be nice in there, right?

Whatever.

He hasn't changed. I called him last night (and used good ol *67 on the phone.... not sure if I really want him having my new number) and we spoke for a while. I can't get over how much pleasure he gets out of making other people's lives so difficult. Maybe spending a so much time with him is why I've turned so seriously toward trying to make other people's lives easier. My attempts to heal other people's wounds may very well stem from the realization that a lot of people are trying to make others feel like crap and take advantage of them. On purpose. That's not fair.

Mister Ex Boyfriend has also spent a lot of time realizing that he can be upfront and direct. It's like we're two totally contrasting glimmers of light-- I'm starting to "grow up and sound more mature" in his words and he's more of a jerk than he was when we were dating-- "More of a jerk than I remember," in my words.

It's weird, because none of my other ex boyfriends turned out that way. I'm serious! Michael C, Mike B, and especially Len turned out to be better people. Mike B learned the important lesson that not every girl is gonna fuck him-- a lesson that I'm not sure he gives a damn about anymore now that he's like 23 or something, but it's a good lesson anyway. Leonard got over a bunch of crap... He's a functional person now. But not the latest Ex... he's just determined to be a complete jerk and not care. And Michael c-- he learned what love was. All important life lessons. God, I should not teach classes on relatiosnhips, lol.

What is it with me and dating these serious guys? I was born in the week of "Youth and Ease" for crying out loud. I'm not serious and stoic. I'm giggly, and say stuff like, "Naugh uh." These guys were all like, grown ups--- who weren't grown up. It's funny because every guy I've ever dated, Frank included, has told me that they felt old at one point or another. I guess I make the old men feel young again.

Ha!

I'm really, really looking forward to leaving work today. I took a lunch, and this is my second slack-off break. I've busted my arse all day, and I'm kind of exausted-- and dare I say-- tired of looking at computer screens!

Well, I'm going to organize these papers that have flopped lazily on my desk, and go the hell home.

Onward to karaoke, folks!

Love and adoration,

Pam

Written, Tuesday, Aug. 12, 2003 at around: 12:01 PM

karaoke countdown, 5 4 3 2 Fun!

Hey-

You know what pisses me off? When people on my diaryland buddy list don't update at least once a month. Like, I understand not everyone is as much of a geek/loser as I am, and maybe you only update once a week-- maybe only once every other week. But waiting more than a month? That pisses me off. I want to have a little bit of insight into the lives of those folks on my buddy list. Update, goddamnit!

LOL

Yesterday the front door (which has humidityitis) swole me out of my apartment again. Damnit. That sucks. My hands still hurt from tugging on the door so many times. I have a callous on my right hand, and it's still pretty effing sore. The door not opening when I want it to? Pisses me off.

What pisses me off more, is that poor frank vounteered to come all the way from jersey (which isn't really all that far, when you think about it, but whatever) through shitty traffic, to help me get inside my house. Well, that didn't piss me off that he was nice enough to come by, but it pissed me off that the door didn't work for me, two days in a row. And frank's a nice guy, he didn't have to do all that. He's so sweet.

*laughs* He, however, make me feel hella weak, though lol. He walks over to my door, takes one good grip, pulls and my door comes open. I was like, "Woa." Frank goes, in all of his manlyness: "It's just that easy," LOL! Yeah, I felt all girly. Maybe all that cooking and skirt-wearing has made me soft. Who knows.

Frank looked at my "My Ebay" page yesterday, and for the first time ever, I was embarrased by the amount of money that I paid for a single item. He got all shocked and said, "41 dollars!" or something, and I'm like... um, yeah. It's funny, because I had told him how much I had bid on the 41 dollar win item (Which is probabally only worth about 20 bucks in the store) and I don' t think he believed me, lol. Ebay totally psychs me out, and makes me weak. If I see something I really want, and get outbid, that kind of pisses me off, so I'll outbid, and it becomes a pattern, lol. Okay, I psych myself out, and may very well be an addict, lol.

I don't want to lose auctions, so if I can afford it, I'll keep bidding. I think the 90 bucks I spent on bullshit is quite enough for this ebay spurt. I really like buying things, lol. Mostly, I don' t like spending a lot of money on things, but when I'm on ebay, sometimes I lose sight of things.

I bought a stewie teeshirt that says, "I'm a sexy bitch" on it, which I think is terribly funny, and only cost like six bucks. Yesterday I won a Dumb and Dumberer poster for a dollar, lol. And I bid on this awesome Stewie Pint Glass... that was really expensive, like 30 dollars, lol. Initially I was only going to spend like, 20 dollars on it. I also got two ciggerette holders-- one has a lighter too-- one with stewie on it (the dreaded 41 dollar item), and another with Rainbow Bright (14 bucks w/lighter). I'm totally considering collecting them but...

I don't smoke.

So, anyway, as far as my ebay-staying-away-fromness... I'm making a serious prommise to avoid buying anything else on ebay for more than 15 bucks until at least christmas.

So, guess what day it is!?!?

IT'S MOTHERFUCKING TUESDAY!

That means karaoke, for the uninformed. I'm obviously, really looking forward to it. So are Ali and Illy. Very exciting stuff. Alison is inviting some of her crew for fun at the bar. That should be fun-- I like meeting new people, especially when they're kind of under the influence, because I feel like I'm meeting more of the "real" them. That may or may not be the truth, but hey, I like meeting new people. So long as those new people aren't assholes, there's tons of fun for everyone.

I want frank to go, but he's so totally not a karaoke kinda guy. We'll see what happens as the day progresses.

As for me, I have work to do, and a lunch to decide upon. I'll talk to you peoples later.

Love and adoration,

Pam

Written, Monday, Aug. 11, 2003 at around: 2:17 PM

Another week starts here... a good one, I can feel it.

Good monday to ya.

It�s such dreary humid weather here in Philadelphia, man. It�s like june all over again. Every day the humidity is so high that it feels like it�s raining even when not a drop falls from the sky. That�s okay, though, because the humidity makes me feel like I�m in florida. Florida is a nice state... Disney World is there. But if disney world was here, then I�d go like, all the time. Well, that might not be true, because I don�t know if I really like disney products too much anymore. Plus, I don�t go to the theme parks that are near here. Meh. Universal studios! I want to ride Back to The Future! Marty McFly in the house, with doctor Emmett Brown chillin in the cut!

Woooh!

I had a nice little weekend. Frank and I went to Fridays for dinner and ate the yummy Jack Daniels sauce on various meats and fish. The food at Fridays has always been good, however the food we had the other night was so good that it should have been illegal. Grilled Salmon steak marinated in Jack daniels sauce and summer veggies. When we go to Fridays Frank eats this thing, which is actually an appetizer, but it�s so huge that it will fill you up like a meal. It�s called the Jack Tower or something like that. It has ribs, sesame chicken and fried shrimp with tiny bowls of the Jack Daniels sauce. They gave him so much chicken it was ridiculous-- He couldn�t eat it all. My tummy was pretty damn full too, after the big slice of salmon they gave me... and the caesar salad, and the veggies.

Yummy.

We went to the Diner (The actual greasy diner, as opposed to the nice casual dining restaurant that calls itself a diner in cherry hill) with Jason, Darrell, Mike L, and this other kid Shawn. It was a fun time. I love watching them all interact, it�s just a laughter fest. They�re all a bunch of assholes, but they�re too much fun to hate.

I really like going places with Frank, he makes me laugh a lot. He�s a terribly easy person to love. Poor frank�s been kinda bummed out lately, so it�s been of my high priority to encourage him to 1- See the optimistic side of things and 2- laugh. He�s been doing a good job of accomplishing number one on a sporadic basis. Number two was accomplished quite well last night, and it wasn�t even that I did anything intentional.

We were on the phone last night, for a really long time. Like, okay- you know when you first really start liking someone, and you have those two to four hour phone conversations? Well, last night felt like one of those phone conversations. We talked about a lot of nothing, and I even took my cell phone out to the supermarket to go buy detergent. I struggled a bit to get out of my front door, which expands and becomes difficult to open when it�s all humid like this. So I get out of the door, and walk to the supermarket, all the while continuing our conversation.

Nothing really exciting happened at the supermarket, except I think I may have said, �That was some good butt sex,� in reference to the Kobe Bryant turmoil aloud while in line. That was fun. So Frank and I are talking and I�m walking home. When I got back to my door, I stuck my key in, unlocked the door and grabbed the handle. I pulled on the door handle. *tug tug tug* �Shit.� Ahem... I pulled on the door handle. *tug tug tug* �Shit!�

I couldn�t get the door open.

Frank started giving me suggestions on how to get the door open. They were suggestions that may have worked if I was a little stronger, but there was no go. I couldn�t get my own front door open. At that point I was kind of bummed out, because I, the princess of girl power, the duchess of �I can do anything� was gonna have to ask some man to open my door. The first idea I had to get some help was to go to the Police station. Frank was like, �No!� Or something.

As I walked over to the police station, which is a block and a half away from my house-- all stalkers need not apply-- I became a little more embarrassed over my situation, and decided that I�d better take frank�s advice and ask someone who lives in the city to come open my door.

So frank (who at this point was obviously tickled by the situation) and I hang up, and I gets to calling. First I called Crazian John. One of his family members with a thick Filipino accent answers the phone: *ring* *ring*
�Heloooo?�
�Uh, Hi, may I speak to John?�
�Who?�
�John... Erik?� (erik is john�s middle name... no it isn�t really crazian)
�Oh! Oh, John. She no heah. She out.�
�Oh, okay... thank you.�
�Who dis is?�
�This is Pam.�
�Who?�
�Pam.�
�Who??�
(slowly) �Pam�
�Oh, okay Kim, I tell John you call for him and let him know message.� *click*
�Goodbye?�

Okay.

So I get back on the horn, and call Jason. *ring*
*ring*
*ring*
*ring*
*ring* �Hello, this is captian obvious! Jason isn�t around right now. Duh.� *click*

Okay.

Damn, those options are getting pretty thin. I didn�t want to make my mom ride the bus all the way down to my apartment just to help me open my door. Oooh! Dante! I can call Dante, he lives in south philly. *Ring* *ring* �Yo,�
�Hi dante,�
�Hey.�
�It�s pam,�
�Oh, hey pam,�
�I need your help.�
�Oh, what�s wrong?�
�Nothing serious, I just need your help getting into my apartment. My door isn�t opening.�
�Okay, Okay, Okay, Okay, Okay, give me a minute, I�m at Kahlil�s house, I�ll be right there.�

So dante and his sidekick drive the six or seven blocks over to my house, and they got my door open. I was so excited. Yay! I called frank back to let him know he didn�t need to drive from jersey over to my house just to open the door. He stayed on the phone with me and once I got back into the house was about the same time that the laughter began.

It must have been a good hour that frank just joked about me, and my need to have a man come open the door for me. See, if you know nothing else about me, know this (and some other stuff is good to know about me too... wait, that just makes that previous statement irrelevant... never mind.) Know this- I consider myself a fairly independent person, and I don�t really like having a lot of stuff done for me, nor do I enjoy having to be dependent on other people. Frank knows this, and got a good laugh out of hearing that his, �Girl Powah!� girlfriend needing the assistance of a man to open up her door.

Uh huh, Francis, laugh it up. *laughs* It�s cool. As I�ve said before, he very rarely says anything that rubs me the wrong way. I�m just sitting here with my shotgun, prepared to try shooting down another run-on joke.

Tomorrow is Tuesday. Tuesday is karaoke night. Fucking real, my friends-- fucking real. At this point I�m not sure who all is going, but I should know by this afternoon. I�m looking forward to some good karaoke-ness, maybe not the drunkenness so much (oh, but I will drink) but it�s still exciting. I plan on singing more tomorrow than I did last week. Last week I didn�t do my solo thing as much.

MONICA: WE MUST HANG OUT IT IS IMPORTANT TO OUR WELL BEING!!

lol, maybe I�ll come to new york in a couple of weeks. I�m busy for the next few weekends... This weekend lots of fun things to do with boyfriend and our friends, next weekend lots of fun things to do with my southern family, weekend after that I�ll be pretty broke after having gone to Virginia and paid my rent, weekend after that, I�ll get paid again, and might get a tattoo. Maybe I�ll go to new york (and ask frank if he wants to come along... he�s never been to new york!) instead of getting a tattoo. I can get a tattoo anytime (plus I�m still scared that it�s gonna hurt).

The trip to New York sounds good, because it breaks my heart that Frank has never been to times square. Every human being on the east coast should see times square at some point in their life. It�s so breathtaking. And every human being should see the hills and mountains in the southwest. They�re so beautiful. One day, if I ever have a lot of money, I�d like to take a cross-country trip, and actually get out and take a look at all the things that passed me by when I rode greyhound from philly to LA. Maybe I�ll just ride greyhound to california again.

Maybe not.

Riding greyhound to california is among the ever so few things that I said I�d never do again, haven�t done again, and have no serious intentions of doing again. This isn�t like the blogathon-- that�s really fun. This is riding greyhound through the depths of white-trash-nigga-and-mexcan-poor-folk-infested america. Plus I saw a guy in the process of dying, which was Scary. His head was all smooshed under the wheel of a bus. What a way to go. Poor dude. And the poor little girl who swore that smooshed head guy was her dad! Oh, that was so fucking horrible.

There was this family with 3 kids on one of the busses on my 3000 mile journey who were totally poor. Their house had ben broken into, and subsequently burnt down. Somehow they managed to get most of their stuff, and enough money for some greyhound tickets to shack up with their family in the Mojave desert. They really seemed like they were in a rush to get the fuck out of Missurori or where ever the fuck we were when they got on the bus. The kids were dirty, hungry and totally uneducated, but they were so sweet... badasses - but sweet. Anyway, the dad had on a red and black checked shirt, and so did the guy who got hit by the bus. The little girl had been chilling out with me, but her mom wanted her to go play outside and get some exercise. Okay, whatever, not my kid. So she goes out for a little while, and all of the sudden outside the bus station a ton of people start freaking out. I will never forget when the little girl came bustin� in the station flipping out like the poltergeist chick.

She told me her dad was dead, and I�m like- �oh shit� She�s all crying on my shirt, and speaking some mix of midwestern and s-s-s-sobbing. The kid is all gasping for air to make sentences that were difficult enough to understand when she wasn�t freaking out. So I�m carrying the poor girl who thinks her dad is dead, and I see her dad outside, looking at this dude who just got FUCKED up by a bus. I waved for pops to come inside and make his daughter stop flipping out.

Those poor kids... they�ll probably be poor forever, and have lines of poor babies, and those babies descendants will be poor. The first-grade age girl couldn�t recognize the difference between the letter a and the number 2. Even worse- the mom was kind of skitzo and the dad was kind of crazy too. They were so poor, and sad... it hurt me. I wanted to pick up the kids and bring them to LA, and then take them back home with me, and teach them how to read.

But they call that kidnapping.

They also call what�s gonna happen to those kids, �natural selection.� It�s a shame, and it�s so nice to know that we have a president who totally ignored his little �Every child� campaign... There�s always someone more fucked up than you- or so they say.

Thanks President bush.

Okay, enough.

Love and adoration,

Pam