cutie!

They lie:

You are a cutie!

What Is Your Style?
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Or maybe they don't. Okay, I'm really going to sleep now. Oh, and I'm thinking about changing my layout. Should I go back to peach girl, vanilla sky, or should I turn the tables entierly, and go for a *Gasp* lord of the rings layout? Any suggestions are encouraged in the guestbook. Goodnight!

love adoration sleep

pam

Written, Monday, Feb. 10, 2003 at around: 2:32 AM

Adoration and v-day and pain and sleep

Howdy!

I just learned that my new female friend, Sharee, is a freeeeak. That's all I have to say about that. Before your mind starts meandering throughout the world of lesbian sex, let me make a statment. No. We didn't have sex. We just watched porn, talked about fake breasts, and bi-curiosity.

A normal girls night at my apartment.

Anyway, Valentines day is this week. I think I've decided that getting -something- for Frank is totally the way to go. I can't pass up an oppertnity to buy stuff, even if I am half-past broke. That, and he's so sweet that he deserves to be celebrated... even if his birthday is a week later.

Nice boys don't come into your life every day, and they deserve to be treated like they're special. So if you have a nice boy in your life, remember that you have to be nice back. It's very true that the nice guy often finishes last, however, if they have a nice girl (or guy, depending on what they're into) to let them know that they rock the big one, things aren't so bad, or at least one would imagine.

I'd like to think statments like that are what valentines day is all about. It's not to most people. Much like christmas, the american media has done a good job of turning a well-minded day into one involving spending a lot of money, and depressing those who are lonely. There are people who have forgotten that christmas is supposed to be about the birth of christ. I'm not all religous or anything, but it just seems silly sometimes.

Valentines day is all about caring for people. It's not about love, entierly. That's why you can give friends valentines, and it isn't strange. When I was younger, I used to look at the day as though it time to cheer people up. As I got older, I realized how depressing the day was. One year, when I was about 15 or so, valentines day was horrible. Not just because I had just been dumped by my first boyfriend, but also because other dumb stuff happened.

But one girl was really nice, and made valentines for everyone. She made one for me, and it honestly cheered me up- a lot. That's what I'd like to think it's all about, but greedy bitches be fuckin' things up for everyone else.

Just because I'm looking forward to a not-sucky valentines day, doesn't mean that I don't empisize with those who will. I was once in your shoes, oh single person who spits on Febuary 14th. It really is just another day, and a lot of people blow it out of porportion.

I was in the Hallmark store the other day, looking for the bazillion birthday cards that I had to buy. I found good birthday cards for everyone, but those pink and red cards, ugh. The ones with the hearts on them and the mushy stuff inside- they anger me. I could not find a valentines day card that expresses what I have to say. Hallmark never lets me down! Anyway, V-day cards use that L word a lot. Then, if the fuckers don't use the L word, they sound terribly impersonal.

I'll figure something out.

On a more "Pam does crazy shit," note-- I've decided that I am going to get over my fear, and get my tattoo. I'm not sure if I wrote about it in here before. I want to get a tattoo of my sign... the symbol for aquarius. It's just two wavy lines. It's always going to be a part of me, and if I ever get murdered, it'd be an easy way to identify my body. Yes, I seriously thought about that. I like tattoos, but the problem is that I'm scared. Pam isn't too fond of pain. Even less is she fond of infections. My aprehension is the only thing that deters me from going through with it. I'll probabally cry. In fact, I know I will. I almost cried when I was getting my ears peirced.

Yes I'm a complete wuss.

I didn't get my ears peirced until last year (yes, I waited until I was 21 to peirce my damn ears), because of my fear of infections, pain, and the girl not making the holes even. Now, I'm very happy with the two extra holes in my head, and I believe that I'll be terribly happy with a tattoo on my body. Plus, it'd probabally be good mental therapy for me to get over my inner weaknesses and go through with it.

So, please encourage me to get this done, because I don't wanna be a wuss.

Anyway, it's like 3:00am now. I'm going to bed. Goodnight everyone, and have a good day!

Love and adoration,

Pam

Written, Sunday, Feb. 09, 2003 at around: 4:02 PM

Short and sweet

Why? Why the fuck do all of my friends think that sunday morning is the best time to call me?

I'm pretty sure that they all get an inner pleasure out of waking me up on a day I don't have to work. That whole, "If I'm up, you have to be up too," mentality seems to run pretty deep in these folks.

That, and I often forget that most of my friends are assholes. This tends to increase the "If I gotta, you gotta," mentality. I don't mind... well, not that much. In fact, it almost pleases me that people go out of their way to annoy me.

It's like being a mini-celebrity.

Speaking of which, people have been asking my dumb ass for advice. I'm not quite sure why, but it seems to make them happy. I suppose it's trust. Horray!

Well, I'm on my way back to game stop. I'll talk to you guys later. Sorry for the short entry, but it's all I've got right now.

Love and adoration,

Pam

Written, Sunday, Feb. 09, 2003 at around: 1:23 AM

Sinus Hedaches are the worst.

Hello.

I believe that I'm officially coming down with sinitus. My mom told me that a couple of days ago, but in my usual fashion, I simply ignored it. In a week, I'll be in the hospital emergency room, as usual-- complaing about a cold that I've had for two weeks, and terrible headaches. Every year, I get sinitus. Actually, it's been every year since I worked for Unisys. Going to all those wherehouses kind of ruined my sinuses or something. I have a headache right now, and it's totally a sinus one. I'm pretty sure my boogers are a nasty color too, even though I haven't blown my nose in a while. I'm such a predictable asshole.

Anyway, I'd like to talk a little bit today about how much I apreciate things. I don't talk about that much, because I'm silly, and I don't like to talk about serious stuff aloud too often. I'm very lucky. Many terrible things could have happened to me in my life, but they didn't. I've narrowly excaped many serious experinces, and lived to tell about them.

Most of my life I've gotten by on the skin of my teeth, even when I made some fucked up decisions. Go me! I apreciate the luck that eminates from me, and the fact that everything truly does work out if you believe.

Okay, enough of me being all mushy and happy. My fucking head hurts. Frank wasn't feeling well earlier, either. This afternoon, he felt terrible. Rob (who isn't in my glossary... this should change) came along and gave him some medicine to make him feel better. Yay!

On the boyfriend tip, he's been much more pleasant lately. This is pleasing to the partially unclouded eye. I'm not sure what it is going on in his brain (as usual) but his exterior has been happier.

Also, I bought him a birthday present yesterday... well, friday. It's the first of what will probabally be a few impluse, "He'd love this!!" gifts. It'd be great if I was able to plan presents, but pam isn't too good at that. I'd like to go into detail about this gift, but as I've said before, he reads this almost as often as I do, so no details as of yet, folks. Sorry. That is kind of a bummer, because it's a cool present. So cool, that for a moment I thought about keeping it for myself! Yes, I'm serious.

It was tough finding a place to hide it, because he's no stranger to my apartment. I found a good hiding spot, though.

*insert maniachal laughing here*

I have to get around to talking to Frank about valentines day. I don't know if celebrating it is nessicary. I want to, but I don't want to be bothered with it. I think I'm much happier simply with the notion of not being depressed on the 14th of the month. Then again, I like buying presents. The problem with buying presents is, what do you get for the guy you've been dating for two weeks? If the answer is "Nothing" then maybe the discussion will be short.

*bangs head on keyboard* kljfsadslsadk

We shall see...

Anyway-- This headache isn't going away. I should take something, but I really don't feel like taking anything. Perhaps a shot in the mouth will take care of it.

After I restart my computer, there might be some pamheadology for ya.

Love, Restarting, and adoration,

Pam

Written, Friday, Feb. 07, 2003 at around: 12:24 PM

PamHeadology

Good morning.

Yes, I realize that it's already well after 12pm, but I just recently tore myself out of bed, so I consider it to be morning still.

So, things are still good in pam land. But I have a serious discussion for today. You've all heard of Pam Poopology. Today you will learn of PamHeadology. A religon that I'm sure that many male readers will apreciate, and many female readers will be able to learn from. Yeah, I said it. This came up in conversation last night, after I had been kicked out of my own shower.

I enjoy giving head. I am not ashamed of this. In all honesty, I think that oral sex is terribly erotic, and sadly, not enough women are willing to do it. You may be turned off by putting the part of your lover's body used to urinate in your mouth. This is completly understandable, because that's kinda gross. But, honestly... Sex is gross too! Think about it. You're letting some guy put his dick inside of your body.

You're allowing another human being inside of you. Even kissing is pretty gross. You're wiping your tongue, saliva, and germs on someone else's tongue. So if you're doing all this, what's wrong with a little dick sucking?

So on with the faith!

Pam Headology

See, the issue here is that not enough women realize the pleasure, both personal and shared that can be taken from giving oral sex to a man. Most normal guys like getting head, or at least that's what they tell me. I'm not a man, however, after giving head, you get a look of complete satisfaction which is not always achievable by other means.

Many women talk to me about sex, and honestly ask me for suggestions, and help. This is strange, because I spent most of last year dryer than the sahara, but whatever. Anyway, they ask me, "Pam, I have a problem with control. I don't want the guy to think that I'm relinqulishing control to him by giving him head." To those girls, I say this: You have no more control over a man than when you're giving him head.

This is because of a few main factors.

1. Guys like head. They're not going to stop you.

2. If you stop, then they'll give you some great sex.

3. Most guys will reciprocate. You give head, you get eaten back.

4. YOU HAVE TEETH.

Now, please understand the following. I, in no way, condone biting a guy when giving him head. That's not acceptable for any reason. "Why?" You ask??? Well, think about it. Do you want some motherfucker biting you? NO! Giving head brings hope, joy, and a whole new outlook on life to the lucky fellow that's recieving it. Nothing in this world is worse than biting some poor guy while he's living in sheer extstacy.

Be kind.

More on PamHeadology to come.

Love and adoration,

Pam

Written, Thursday, Feb. 06, 2003 at around: 1:10 AM

Because life just kicks ass sometimes (but my skills don't)

Happy Thursday!

So begins hell month. Sharee's birthday, mom's birthday, Frank's birthday, Illy's birthday, and the ever feared V-day are all this month. That's fairly stressful. Well, not really, but I'm a bit more inspired when I think I'm stressed out.

I'm still not sure what valentines day is gonna be like. Frank dropped a couple, 'I don't wanna' hints, and sadly, that sounds fucking great. I'd much rather go all out on his birthday weekend then bother with valentines day. It'd be much easier to buy some cute undies, and do things that I wouldn't mention in front of children to him than bother with the usual v-day stuff. Whatever the fuck the usual is. Although I'm apreciative that this year's febuary 14th won't entirely suck, I have no clue on how to go about the day. I'm torn, and poor. I need a job, lol.

Plus, it's rather unfair that this evil day occurs inbetween our birthdays. Valentines day in the summer time would be easier. But no. Everyone I've been close to for the past 6 or 7 years has a birthday in the winter or fall. Libras, scorpios, Sagitarians, Capricorns, Aquarians, and Pisceans have filled my life for years. Everyone else is kind of secondary. No offense if you're among the other half.

The other half of my life these days consists mostly of video games... I just got finished playing xbox live with the guys. I suck soooo bad. Oreo Barbie needs to take some time out of her day and practice. There hasn't been much time for that though. I've been busy sleeping in, and updating my journal. Traning in video games is something that I haven't considered doing in a couple of years. It's a necssisary evil, though. I can't be embarrased like I was today, ever again.

Yes, my skills stink.

Anyway.... Sharee is turning 22 in a couple of days. Tonight... well, much much later, darrell is taking her out for dinner. Frank and I are going along for the ride. If this event should be refered to as a double date or a "party" is seriously up for grabs. Well, if you ask darrell, it is. I don't know nothin'. It should be quite the experince. We shall see.

Speaking of Miss Febuary 8th herself, I'm slowly getting over my, "She's so goddamn pretty," complex. Slowly. I had to spend an extended amount of time in front of my mirror, but I remembered that deep down, I think I'm good looking, and I'm somewhat concited. Yeah, I said it. No more of this low self esteem shit for me. That's not quite my style.

To keep in tradition of excaping low-self-esteem-like shit, I've offically decided to leave game stop. I can't do it anymore. Aside from the fact that the managment is unhappy with some corporate decisions, I know good and damn well that I'm better than what I'm doing right now. I'm not sure how many other people realize that about themselves. Quite a few need to, because game stop is like drugs. You start working there, and you think it's this great high, but all it does is destroy your life. Working there, does anyway. Quitting will encourage me to look for a real job. Getting comfortable in a retail setting isn't something that is going to help life in this apartment get better. Plus, I intend on having a lot more fun qutting this job than my last.

As much as I hate to admit it, I need a full time job to stimulate my brain. Game Stop is fun, --sometimes-- however, the company has given me all it had to offer. I seriously doubt there's much more that I can learn from staying there.

The ever helpful boyfriend even emailed me some jobs that I applied for today. Yay! He found one for a Network Administrator that pays like 40k. They wanted 8 years of experince, but I'm pretty sure that if they call, I can convince them to interview me.

Maybe I'll just start calling people out of the phone book, and ask them for jobs. "Hello mister dot com, but are you looking for someone who is entirely underqalified for any position that you have worth me applying for, or someone who is completley overqualified for any entry level position you ha... Oh. Yes. Okay, I'll try the other close-to-bankruptcy-dot-com."

Riiight.

Well, needless to say, I'm feeling better than I did this morning. I read the cover article in the Philadelphia City Paper today. It was about my Step-grandfather. He's a cool guy... I don't know him too well, but cool guy none the less. I should make an effort to get to know that side of my family better. *makes effort, grunts, frowns* Oh well, so much for that.

I have some other stuff to say, but I have to go potty... wait here, I'll be right back.

*jepoardy music plays*

Okay, I'm back. Hey, while I was on the toilet, I was thinking. Well, that's what Pampoopology is all about, but anyway... I'm very lucky. In a lot of respects this is true. I'm a complete asshole most of the time, and things still work out for me somehow. That, and a lot of people welcome me with open arms whenever I start to care about them. Like, I feel special, because people give me the gift of being the one to listen. Yeah, I often complain and bitch because it's often quite a burdon, but I don't mind. I'm happy to know that people feel comfortable enough with me to speak the truth, or open up.

Yay!

Well, anyway, I'm gonna get my shower on, consider cleaning my apartment for about 10 minutes, pick out some clothes for tomorrow night, and vibrate myself to sleep.

Love and adoration,

Pam

Written, Wednesday, Feb. 05, 2003 at around: 9:04 AM

Me, talking about my family?? Ew!

It's 9:00am and I'm awake.

This kinda sucks. I had a disturbing dream. It was one of those dreams that feels like it lasted for hours, but probabally only seemed that way. I had a dream taht I saw both of my grandparents die.

That's not but so disturbing, because Nana and Pop pop are very old people. It was more disturbing because it reminded me of a dream that I've tried to forget. The last time I had a dream like this, it was about my mom, and not too long after, she had a(nother) near death experince.

My mom is only 51 (She'll be 52 on the 19th!), however she's had 2 or 3 strokes, severe kidney infections, and a bunch of other bad health problems. When she has to spend the night at the hospital, it's usually very bad. She's the only parent I've got, so that's kind of scary.

I joke with her about her health problems, because honestly, I don't know how else to deal with them, other than to tell her to take care of herself. Thinking about that stuff makes me want to cry, and I do my best not to cry around her. It really takes a toll on her when she sees me in a bad mood. Not to mention that she's terribly emotional, and reactive rather than responsive.

After Mr. Ozzie died, and she told me some truth about that situation, I got really scared. I mean, I was pretty grown up at the time, but I was scared. I don't have a tightly knit family. That, and how am I supposed to keep things together if she did die? I can't handle family responsiblity, mostly because I do my best to not become embroiled in such things.

My family has always been mom, Na na, and Pop Pop. My aunt, cousins, and uncle are so distant/crazy that I do my best not to pay them any mind. For a long time, I honestly looked at Mr. Ozzie (The only adult I ever really refered to as a Mr or Miss after I got older) as a dad. I didn't know he was really my dad, but hey, secrets run abounds in my life. Trust me.

Since he died, my mom really changed. After the really depressing times were over, she tried to cheer herself up, and live the life that she didn't while I was a little girl. Now she's really sad again, and I don't know what to do. I'm really mad at the Jackson family right now.

Anyway, I apreciate my mom so much. She was a really good parent, and has always been there for me. Sometimes I wish I could go back and be a better daughter, but there's no need. She loves me anyway.

Silly mom. If only she weren't so crazy.

Anwyay, This is an odd entry to be the first on a page. I haven't written an entry like this in ages. What an incredibly emotional first few weeks this year has brought. It's a shame that I didn't have any online capiblities in my house when the worst stuff happened last month. It would have made for good reading.

Well, it's 9:30. Back to bed for me.

Love and adoraiton,

Pam