Hitting the fan

Fucking hell.

I miss my cat. This whole missing cat thing is really bothering me... like a lot. I have to print up flyers tomorrow, and put them up saturday morning.

God. I still feel exausted. Not like the type of exausted I felt after frank's birthday, but just drained. It's not terrible. And I ache. But it's a good ache.

I still feel alinated, dude. I can't explain why either. I have to call leighann and talk to her for a while, and regain my bearings.

It's a little lonely in my apartment because the cat is gone, so I've been uber-retarded lately. Just kinda whiny and such. Not a huge deal, but I know I'm an annoying little shit when I'm not getting everything done my way (See also: Work ... but I'm a professional annoying shit here). I just need to chill out a little.

I'd like to take a quickie vacation, but I can't do that until at least mid april.

I need to buy food too. Thank goodness I get paid soon. I get to open my bank account tomorrow. Just thinking of having to hand a banker that stupid fucking certificate just fills me with embarrasment and pissedofficity.

I remembered that I was smart earlier today. It made me feel good that I'm such a quick learner, and lifted my shot spirit for a minute. I'm getting back into, "keeping the front" mode. Where I've got all this shit on my back, but nobody needs to know. I spent all of last year so busy being "Real" with my feelings that I forgot why I keep shit to myself.

So, along with all of my other fucking plans and ideas, and projects (projects galore) I'll be working on keeping that lid on my emotions again. I realized that I let em spill out at work a few weeks ago with that whole, "We're gonna do shit that directly pertains to your job, but not tell you," thing.

Oh, and my mom is really sick...

Lovely.

So yeah, emotional ice cube comin' atcha!

Keepin' it real and kickin' ass,
later

Pam

Written, Thursday, Mar. 18, 2004 at around: 12:54 PM

Sponsor this Philadelphia/New Jersey Refugee!

So okay...

I came to this page with no clear idea of what I wanted to write about... OH!

Yeah, so I'm broke, and I want to move to New Jersey. Last night Frank and I did the Best Buy/Mall trip and while there, I mentioned that a guy working at Best Buy looked like a transplant from South Philly to New Jersey.

Frank called him a Refugee.

I laughed.

And then I thought, "Hey!"

And after that thought I had an actual idea.

"For only 28 cents a day, you can help this poor, south philly citizen," That'd be me, "attain her goals of refuge in Southern New Jersey!"

I call it the Philly/Jersey Refugee Fund.

You can send donations to me via paypal, and I'll give you a quarterly update, with a letter, a picture of me, and I'll even draw a picture of my new home with birds shaped like the letter "M" flying in the sky, and a big lemon yellow sun.

I'll even call you mommy or daddy if it turns you on.

LMAO

Okay this is getting a little sick.

I'm in a good mood because there was really, really, insanely good sex last night. Ohmigod. Have I ever mentioned that I like sex? The orgasam is the only true gift from god. Everything else is secondary. Except food. Food isn't secondary. It's equal.

Thank you very much scorpio ascendant.

I have to get some more work done and goof around on orkut, which kicks myspace's ass.

Later,

Pam