Don't you agree?

Good afternoon everyone,

I have to tell someone, and since you�re reading this willingly, I have to say that I am totally, absolutely and completely in love.

I mean, don�t you totally love that new song by Beyonce Knowles? Well, maybe you don�t but I adore it! It�s more cheesy pop, but you know, I just don�t care. I went through a very serious Britney phase, and I�m starting to warm up to Justin, now that I�ve seen him act like a goof ball on MTV. Plus we were born or the exact same day (January, 31rst 1981), so he has to be a great person. I�ve always kinda liked Christina. I�m an ex-rocker chick that went through a mild Cindi Lauper phase, loves pop-music, had a short affair with country music, and is slowly (very s l o w l y) warming up to hip-hop-pop.

That�s a varied music preference career for a 22 year old black girl. Sometimes it�s hard not to just blurt these things out.

So yeah, yesterday was good and it�s over. Yesterday afternoon, Frank had an interview here in Center City Philadelphia and he got in touch with me to ask if I wanted to go get something to eat after work. I was all happy and silly... it�s a very rare experience that anyone comes to see me, or pick me up at any place that I�m employed. Well, anyone except my mom, and any place that wasn�t Game Stop. Fuckers were coming to visit me there when I didn�t work there.

We went to eat at this diner in Cherry Hill. If you ask me, it�s not really a �diner,� although the aforementioned word is in the title of the restaurant. The place is more like a low cost casual dining restaurant which just so happens to have a fifties diner atmosphere. The food is way too good and nicely presented for that place to be considered a diner. Yeah, and it�s clean inside too. Since I�m trying all hard to lose some weight again (ha!), I only ordered a chicken caesar salad. It was yummy, I liked the dressing, it was really light.

Frank had been raving about these amazing, unreal, sick, wicked cool mozzarella sticks they have there. They�re not quite mozzarella sticks, by normal standards. These things are basically egg rolls filled with mozzarella cheese, spinach and some italian spices. They were good, but not like, amazing. I like egg rolls. I like Mozzarella sticks. I don�t care too much for the results of the two being forced to breed.

While we were there, I was so damn happy! Frank was talking, and I didn�t have to make him talk! It was awesome. He�s been doing that a lot more lately, and it makes me really happy. Like, Frank is always talking, don�t get me wrong. In fact, sometimes it�s hard to shut the guy up. He rarely seems to talk about himself unless someone inquires. I guess spending time with me is probably a verbal kick in his ass, because I�ll gladly talk about myself for hours at a time. Verbally aggressive, Grr!! But today, when I took my usual attempt at shutting up for a few minutes and seeing if he�d just start talking, I�ll be damned if he didn�t just start talking... about himself! Yay!!

I love hearing him talk about himself, and things that happen to him. It�s like I�m learning more about him. I�m a big kid, and kids love to learn, right? He�s awesome.

Like a fat kid loves cake, I tell you.

I must be a fucking fat kid... lemme tell you! Oh dear god, hold me down... and get me a box of tissues. No, I�m not crying, but I may need another pair of panties-- there was this cake Frank ordered. There is not a word that I can think of to describe the overwhelming decadence, pure sin, and potential for becoming a diabetic that lived within that slice of cake.

cake

That�s the best I�ve got. I swear, after leaving the restaurant, we both kept sighing, and suppressing stomach contractions. The cake was awesome.

So yeah, I had a nice time yesterday evening. Then I got home and did the usual, Pam at Home Doing Not Much stint. Around 9:30, after I had practiced singing for an hour and a half, I got a phone call. I�ll be goddamned if it wasn�t my ex-boyfriend. He�s gotten a good deal of the �I don�t wanna talk to you,� Pam lately, but for whatever reason, I actually spoke to the guy yesterday. He�s not horrible as a friend, and I suppose he�s okay. I�ve known worse people... hell, I currently know worse people.

Then, it was wacky-- after I got off the phone with the guy, my mom called. I kinda blew her off, because it was terribly weird speaking to her after talking to him. My mom hates my ex-boyfriend, and not just because he�s now my ex-boyfriend. She hated his damn guts for every moment that I dated the guy. Now it�s kind of funny, because it�s a role reversal. My mom actually kind of likes the guy I�m dating, and he hates her.

I mean, she�s not like, all about me dating Frank, �cause my mom is racist. but she�s expressed several times that she actually wants to get to know him. I don�t get it... crazy cusp people. I worry about stuff like that sometimes though, because I really want to orchestrate a healthy relationship between the two of them, but that�s so difficult. Believe you me, I bang my head against random computer and tv screens on a regular basis, in hopes that I�ll absorb some kind of knowledge. Either absorb knowledge, or just bruise my brain, and make it so I don�t concern myself with so much stuff anymore.

It�d be really awesome if everyone I knew could just get along on a civil level, but that�s not to be expected, as so many of them are always on their medephorical periods, and refuse to see things any way but their own. Very difficult is it to convince the un-convincable, but I believe that it�s a task I�m up to.

The next task that I�m under the impression that I�m up to, is getting lunch. Wow, that�s a cool sentence, because it starts low, and ends up high.... oh never mind. Yeah, I�m gonna go grab some greasy lunch truck food (Because there�s really nothing else to eat in this neighborhood) and strain to find work to do this afternoon. Have a great remainder to your day, and an even better tomorrow.

Love and adoration,

Pam

Written, Tuesday, Jun. 10, 2003 at around: 1:59 PM

Another glossary update

Oh yeah---

I updated the glossary yesterday, but never made any note of it. Well you can consider this update to be that note... only a little late. Okay, really late, and you wouldn't really have to consider it, because no matter what you think, this is that update, only later.

Truthfully, this isn't "That" very update, because the update that I'm talking about never existed in the first place. Perhaps what I mean to say, this is an entry to make up for the lack of update regarding the earlier edits made to my glossary page.

But, where's the entertainment in that? It sounds so steril, and so boring. I prefer to be conversational here, and that doesn't always require a need to use no correct grammar, or speelin. I suppose one would imagine why in the world it matters.

You know what? I can't answer that question! I also can't answer why when I'm at home my personal entries always seem much more deep and meaningful than these ever turn out to be. Maybe it's because I don't stop and start when I'm at home. Here I'll start writing, find some work to do- do it- and write more. That's also probably why these entries always read so weird. You know what I mean?

Know what else? I just got a buncha buisness cards. Crazy paper-wasting office. I have my own extension, so I'm gonna give everyone my card in hopes that a couple of my friends might call me during work hours, so that I can feel liked and important. LOL, like I said before, I'm very easy to please...

But difficult to satisfy. Oh man, is this turning into a supplementary update? I guess so.

The other day when we were at the mall (we= frank, jay, me) I was complaining out loud that I need a better job so that I can afford to shop at king of prussia again. I really am never satisfied with what I'm doing. When I had just graduated CLC with honors, and was winning karate tournements, earning a thousand bucks a week, and had a late-model car, I wasn't really satisfied either.

I doubt I ever will be satisfied with where I am in life, becuase there's always more that I could be doing. Even when I'm bitching about having too much shit to do, too many people wanting my help and attention, and not enough hours of sleep, I always feel deep inside like I could be doing more with myself. That, and I have yet to get paid to sing, and I haven't gotten a paycheck from any of the acting I've done... That better change soon, because Mike Davis (producer of Love Hurts) owes me upwards of a thousand dollars.

*shakes fist*

Damnit, I have to talk to that guy.

Oh, speaking of performing, karaoke is tonight. It's a beautiful day outside, so I'm sure there will be a ton of people there... but I have like four spendable dollars. I might go anyway, lol. I've gone to karaoke with less. I'm gonna be mad broke next week, and I get paid on friday. I'm procrastinating with some of my less-urgent bills because I really wanted to be able to buy stuff, and go places. That was fun, I suppose-- now it's time to be responsible again.

I hate that time.

It's been stated here many times that I've gotten better at managing my money over the past 6 months, but that in no way means that I enjoy it. :-P If only I could not have to deal with bill-paying. I should pay someone else to pay my bills with my money. That'd be awesome! Everyone who doesn't understand me... (everyone) would say that'd be a terrible waste of money, but to me, that'd be a great investment, because I don't like paying my bills. I'd be happier giving someone 20 bucks to take my money, organize my bills, and pay 'em for me. I'm great at creating even budgets, estimating my pay, and all that kind of stuff... contrary to what I'm always saying, I'm pretty good with math, I just don't like it.

I also don't like getting money orders, writing checks, sealing envlopes, or standing in long lines just to give up my money for services already rendered. It really rubs me the wrong way. I think it comes from paying other people's bills in the past. Well... not people's but one person's in particular. *teeth grind* Anyway, that psychological issue is why my home phone gets cut off every now and again. I'll put the money aside, and it'll sit there (most of the time, sometimes I just give up and spend it), but I just can't bear to walk in the payment office, and hand them 30 dollars for telephone service I've already used.

Yeah, I'm a little crazy.

I also have work to do.

Love and adoration for everyone! Here's 20 bucks!

Pam

Written, Tuesday, Jun. 10, 2003 at around: 10:51 AM

I passed out! :-o

Good morning!

Oh god, I almost sound like a morning person. It�s still AM and I�m chipper. God forbid.

This has been a really good morning, and it�s all due to the bright, sunny weather, and the fact that I passed out watching the end of the hockey game last night.

Yeah, since it was monday, and there was nothing else on tv late last night, I watched hockey. Damnit. Hockey is one of those sports that if you�re actually routing for a team, it�s really damn nerve racking. There�s only one way to score any points, so it�s really a nail biter. I think I yelled at the screen a few times. How embarrassing as a female... I�m originally a football/baseball girl, anyway. Baseball is not really a TV or sports bar sport. Yes, I watched baseball during the no-cable-at-all stint I went through a little while ago, but that�s beside the point. Baseball really is more of an in-person at the stadium sport. Football, you can watch anywhere. I think hockey is like football that way, I could imagine watching hockey anywhere. I yell sometimes. Rarely. Not really... lol.

Go Eagles?

Apparently, yesterday I was very, very tired. I came home from work around 6, and remembering that the Stanley Cup game was going to be that evening, I figured I oughta give my hockey-lovin� boyfriend a girlfriend-free evening. The weather was kind of hot, and humid, so I had no desire to take a walk, plus I was a little exhausted. I sat around and read some of the magazines that are slowly taking over my living room, and I considered cleaning them up.

I didn�t.

If I feel the way I feel right now at 6pm this evening, I�m going to clean my whole apartment, kitchen included.

That�s the part where you gasp out of shock, because Pam never cleans her apartment. *gasp!* like that.

Anyway, I ate some corn chips, drank some apple juice, and read for a while. I sang for almost an hour, which is significantly less than a usual practice session for me. I had to do some practice for a little bit, �cause for whatever reason I can�t let my voice rest for two days at a time, or it seems to relax, and get all crappy. It�s the same with my legs-- I have to stretch out every day, because I get these bad cramps in my calves sometimes. When I remember to stretch, it�s not a big deal- but when I don�t-- if I sit in the same place for any extended amount of time, my legs will cramp, or even worse my ankles will get sore. Bummer.

So, I sang, I worked out for a bit, and I sat down to watch tv. I watched the real world, Punk�d, and the Ashton Kutcher diary. Ashton Kutcher is awesome. I wish I had my own tv show... He�s got tons of power, and influence... he also has his own production company! I want to do that one day. Plus he�s really good looking-- I think I have that in the bag. I�ma be the female Ashton Kutcher, up in this piece, dude. So, after my hours in the living room, I got up, and turned on the tv in my bedroom to watch the Stanley Cup game.

I turned it on around the end of the 2nd period, and when I fell asleep, somewhere after the 3rd period was just starting, the game was still 0-2. I�ll be damned if I don�t really remember when I fell asleep. That hasn�t happened to me in ages. My poor body. I really just passed out. I woke up, because I heard the news on, and all the lights were still on. I was a little peeved that I missed the end of the game. Well not really, because I was kinda routing for the Ducks.

Then, this morning, I woke up on my own at 6:40, which is well before my alarm is set for-- 7 am. So, I woke up and took plenty of time out for personal hygiene. I really need to go on a diet (a normal one) and stick to it. I think if I go back to the no-red meat/no bread diet (which isn�t difficult for me, especially at home) I might lose more weight. I bought fruit salad for breakfast today. Yum!

When I started working at NAPCO in may, I weighed almost 160 pounds. I�m down to 149. Well, that�s what I weighed on friday. I haven�t weighed myself since then, and I did a lot of eating this weekend. Let me explain something to you before those of you who don�t know me start thinking �Jesus, 160, she must be a fucking porker,� which I would think too, but I�m still gonna say, �Fuck you,� �cause I�m not fat looking... I�m 5�10. I must admit that 160 is really fat to me. That�s damn close to 200. Until I started working my first full-time desk-only job (EDU) I had never weighed more than 140, and I thought that was fat. 150 is within the range of healthy weights for my height, but I�m really not satisfied with it. I used rock the flat-chested-tyra-banks-ing look... well, not flat, but not a d-cup either... now I�m all Kelly Clarkson-with-5-extra-inches-of-height-ing it.

I was also a c-cup when I was 160. Now I�m a b again. It�s kind of a bummer to know that I can�t be thin, and have big boobs simultaneously. Really though, I think I�d look really damn weird if I had ever been a d-cup. That, and buying shirts would be a pain in the ass. If my boobs were big, I�d SO wear low-cut shirts all the time. I don�t really do that now, because it�s counter productive. Why bother when there�s not usually any cleavage? Who can I contact to complain abou this one? Is it the same guy I�m supposed to bitch about the weather to?

For whatever reason, I can fit a size 6 or small shirt. That makes me feel good. Then, I look at my collection of pants. Right now I have on a pair of size 10 old navy jeans, and a medium shirt. They both fit me very loosely, and if I wanted to, I could moon someone without unbuttoning my pants. *laughs* My shirt is also really loose-- I might be able to fit another girl in here. *laughs more* So I�m guessing that I have size 6 breasts, and a size 8 ass. I really need to buy new clothes. I haven�t bought new clothes since my last sit on my ass check. That was nearly two months ago.

I�d like to get some dresses, because I haven�t bought any new ones in such a long time. Often I feel a little uncomfortable wearing dresses, because I buy short ones, and I always feel like everyone can see my underwear/entire ass. My current level of self-confidence however, is high enough to sustain wearing some sexy clothing on a regular basis, and simultaneously not giving a fuck. There�s a greater reason why I don�t buy any dresses... the ones I really like are expensive. When I wear a dress, I usually like to show off my legs and figure. I think I have a really nice figure. Express sells some beautiful form-fitting dresses and that�s the only kind I really want. The pretty, form-fitting, boob-lifting dresses sold at Express have really ruined me for other stores. Their 58 dollar dresses look really great on me, but I�ll be damned if I�m spending 58 dollars on a goddamn dress. I�m still pretty poor for the time being, so I can�t fathom spending that much money in one store, even if I leave with a bunch of stuff.

I did, however, buy some cute little girls wife-beater-esque shirts at the dollar store a couple of days ago. I think they�re really sexy with a nice pair of jeans, and a good push �em up and stick �em out bra. OH!! My cat pissed on my (p)leather pants!!! I�m so upset, man... it took me years to find some inexpensive (p)leather pants that fit me right, and now they�re in a plastic bag, funkin� it up, cat piss style. Goddamnit.

Oh my god... was I just talking about clothing without the influence of another chick? Jesus christ...

Okay, it�s almost lunch time.. talk to you guys later.

Love and adoration,

Pam

Written, Monday, Jun. 09, 2003 at around: 1:20 PM

Lunchtime thoughts like, Where should I visit next?

It's lunchtime!

And I'm sitting at my GDMF desk. There's nobody here for me to eat lunch with, and I've never been fond of eating in cafiterias (we have one... :-P) So unless I have somewhere to go, this is where I eat. Maybe after a year, I'll have some friends here, who I can go eat lunch with.

That's marginally depressing.

Honestly, I usually work through lunch, but that doesn't make a difference here, as I don't have 8 hours worth of work to do every day. Not too long ago, like maybe friday, I was in frank's car, and the subject of my job came up. He said that he thought chillin' on the internet all day is great. In a way, yeah... 'cause I don't have the internet at home, but getting paid to do it isn't too awesome at all. I did that at EDU and it's not all that fufuilling. I enjoy accomplishing things, and actually doing stuff. I guess that makes me weird, because a lot of people are saying, "What are you complaining about," after I start bitching about not having any work to do. When I have a lot of work to do, Monday is my favorite day of the week. I like to be busy, okay?

Geez.

This is going to be a double entry day, I can feel it. Around 3:30, after I've finished my three exciting tasks for the day, I'll get bored, and decide that it's time to update again.

This job is really not that important, but Sarah is doing a good job of making me feel like it is. I like that. I also like that she corrects me immediatey when I'm doing something wrong. Feedback is very important to me in everything I do, even if it's *constructive* negitive feedback. So long as the "f" word isn't included. No, not fuck-- "fail." Ha! NAPCO also must really like wasting paper too. They printed up stationary for me with my name, title, phone, fax and email address on it. Why do I need stationary? Isn't that why I have postit notes here? Nobody sends real mail for correspondance anymore, and everyone who works here can probabally figure out what my email address is. I don't get it, dude... I'm also getting buisness cards soon. Does this job really nessisitate buisness cards? I don't think it does. My last job didn't nessistate buisness cards, but they ordered me some anyway.

Crazy, wacky, paper wasting offices!

I'm sleepy, but not from exaustion. I think it's just the weather. Dude, okay-- it's been like a month now, and Philadelphia has had about five sunny days. This is absurd!! It's June... not october! I'm complaining about the weather like there's a guy somewhere I can contact, and let him know that he's doing a poor job. That guy would be more hated than any lawyer could ever dream.

Speaking of dreams, I've been dreaming of getting the fuck out of the deleware valley since January, but I haven't really had the umph, or the money to do it. Soon I will, and that really makes me happy. I found myself thinking of cities to visit-- and ways to convince my boyfriend to come with me. I love to travel, but it's so much more fun when you have someone to share the adventure with. LOL... adventure... I say that like I'm planning on going to the sahara or trek accross the amazon. Naw. I have a few ideas in mind that I'd love to spout here, but I want most of it to be a supprise (that's what I do, I'm best with impromptu) and he reads this pretty frequently so, no dirt for him.

Well, I'd better go. More from me later. Have a great day until you hear from me next!

Love and adoration,

Pam

Written, Friday, Jun. 06, 2003 at around: 3:16 PM

The day of beauty, named for Venus (roman) and Frigga (Norse)

Good day fellow humans,

Wow, the past two days have actually given me a little trickle of work assignments. Can you believe it?

I�ve actually been doing some �editing,� so to speak. I�ve always had a little soft spot in my heart for pointing out other people�s mistakes. This job gives me that power, and my supervisors have the temerity to encourage it! I�ve even been assigned to tell other people what to do a couple of times in the past week. Do these people realize what a power hungry, and mildly competitive shrew lives inside this otherwise normal girl? This thumb-on-the-heads of others job responsibility is doing wondrous things for my sore and confused ego. Oh god, I�m going to have an jobgasam. Oh, oh! No, no, no... don�t touch me!

Watch out, they�re creating a monster.

It�s a little pathetic that my emotional stability is so dependent on my employment status. Or is that normal? I really don�t know. It�s frightening, because my normal behavior is obviously a direct effect of my career. Oh my god, that�s really scary. I didn�t really think that there�d be such an obvious change in the way I respond to people, and my level of confidence.

That whole, �I can do anything,� mentality took a vacation along with my full time employment. Now the world is mine again, and everything else is going to fall right into place. All I�m waiting for is my sexual and physical confidence to come back into full swing, and I�ll have the full package. Maybe I�ll wear my (p)leather pants today or something. Yeah, I can be a sexy beeyatch sometimes.

Anyway, *laughs at herself* yeah, I�m obviously doing well. Oh, I had a bunch of fun last night. Sometimes it really is so much more fun to stay in the house... well if you�ve got company.

Frank visited me last night (mostly for the pocky, lol). Oh damnit, he spells pocky similar to hockey-- with the damn e in it, and I don�t think he knows how much that annoys me. Pockey.... ugh. That�s almost as irking as when people write �Ill talk 2 u pplz l8r.� *!!!* Well, not really, but close. Okay, it�s not even close but it does kinda rub me the wrong way.

Anyway, Frank came to visit yesterday and we watched hockey/the MTV Movie Awards. Oh god damn, the movie awards were way too funny. I don�t want to ruin it for the nine hundred times they�ll replay it before the end of the month, but Gollum said fuck. That�s all you need to know, and no, that�s not on the �Picard died,� tip either guys.

So we laughed at Seann William Scott and Justin Timberlake (who I don�t think frank likes too much, lol), and Yoda. Yoda is the man. Ashton Kutcher wore a suit, and stood next to puff daddy, as if to proclaim that Ashton made the big time like all the rest of the negros. He wasn�t famous because of that 70�s show... the only cool program on the Fox Wednesday night... he�s a star because of Punk�d, the funniest show on MTV that isn�t the movie awards that were on last night. I like the guy. It�s a proud feeling to know that he, Elijah Wood, and Justin Timberlake are all of my sign, and famous. Aquarians unite!

Yeah, I�m silly.

After the show was over the aftershow came on, but we didn�t really watch it. No kids, get your heads out of the gutter. As I was laying on his lap, watching the tv, Frank said one of his current keep �em runnin�-like-hell jokes. I just kinda stared at him. It kind of bothers him when I do that, so he tries to stop the stare. He was all trying to cover my eyes... it was fun. As he was struggling to divert my attention away from him and stuff, I just kept staring at him. Sadly, most of the time his efforts to make me look elsewhere work, because I don�t have a good attention span. If he says, �Look at that!� I�ll look. It�s horrible too, because always I know he�s only saying that to make me stop looking at him as he says it, but I always wanna know what he�s seeing that I�m not.

I�m such a child.

Anyway-- nothing he�s doing is stopping the stare, until he took a hint from something we saw earlier on the MTV Movie Awards. I�m not talking about 50 cent being all hip-hop up in this piece, either. -Ha!- He gave me a damn wet willy. *insert a frustrated scream here* Yo! Oh man! Dude! Other pointless exclamations of grossedouted-ness!! That was it. Not only did I stop looking at him, I got up, turned around and tried to wet willy him back. He, obviously, was not having that up in this piece (Ha! That�s two!). This was an ongoing psudo-wrestling match for at least a half an hour. After a lot of struggle, and being spun around on his shoulders (wee!) I finally got him back, and gave him a wet willy too.

Then he had the nerve as we kissed goodnight to use the cat against me as she distracted me and give me another wet willy. In fact he gave me two! Oh, he just don�t know... it�s on. *laughs* He�s fun. Love that man like a fat kid loves cake.

Oh yeah, I went there.

Well, I can�t write anymore �cause I have a buncha stuff to do (read: nothing). Have a great remainder to your day, and an even better tomorrow.

Love and adoration,

Pam