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Okay, This layout is killing me, because I can't decide on anything to change it to. I think I want to get in touch with my geeky roots and make another anime insprired layout, but I'm not quite sure if that's who I am right now. I'm very fond of blue, but I don't want to go crazy wit that again. I think my best shot right now is to go ahead and change my table layout all toghether so no one will recognize my diary at all. I'm so lazy, I still haven't altered my "older" page. Plus it's approaching time to change the html page for my weblog. I dig the weblog style diary, because it's easier to read what I recnetly wrote. I'm sorry I've been ultra-ignoring this page, as well as firsts But I've been trying really hard to attempt having a life. I've mostly been writing in my Artists Journal. I like that journal, because if I can't really think of anything to write, I can always just draw a picture of me looking tired to explain why I stopped in the middle of a sentance. I don't have much interesting to say right now, so I'm going to go ahead and end this entry. Love and adoration, pam
Yeah, so many entries ago, I prommised a tale explaining the trip to baseball with frank. The event that I refered to as a not-date. Heh, the not-date, with the not-boyfriend. Frank got a couple of tickets to see the phillies play from this dude Rob, who works at gamestop. Rob also works for First union, and he gets all sorts of stuff for free. Damn big buisnesses and their perks. Well, Rob decided that he didn't want to go to see the phillies play, so he gave the tickets to frank. I think frank was gonna take his dad, but who knows. So frank asked darrel, but he was like, "naw dawg" and John was supposed to work, so that left me. I dig sports and stuff, so I got asked. Frank asked me on saturday (To go to the game on sunday) he goes: "What are you doing tomorrow?" and I thought about it. . . "Nothing..." And he asked me to go to see baseball. I was like, cool! The first thing that I thought about after I realized that I was doing this was, "This isn't a date." Because if I thought of it that way, I probabally wouldn't be too casual about it. I get nervous sometimes. I get really nervous. I don't know what to say, and I sound like a complete ass. I don't like that version of Pam. I'm supposed to be the cool, composed, flirty chick that everyone digs. Sometimes it's hard to keep that front up. Espeically when dealing with a situation like the one I'm in. There's all this potential for a relationship, but if I say the wrong thing, or take the wrong action, I'm sure to fuck it up. Like I've said in the past, I really think Frank is worth me taking effort into being serious and really being his friend. I dig him a lot, and I apreciate our friendship. He's a good person, so I don't want to ruin our friendship over... stuff. I figure around thanksgiving I'll bring up the "Why the fuck aren't you and I dating" conversation again, and see how he takes it. I've brought that conversation up twice, and both times I got about the same response, which was essintally no response at all. Men confuse me. Love and adoration, Pam
This is one of those really damn boring days. I wasn't feeling too well this morning, so I got to work late. Well, honestly, I slept late because I was here last night with tiffany, and I couldn't get to sleep right away after I got home. I'm very tired. Anyway, it's cold in here, and I'm having difficulty concentrating on anything work related for more than 5 minutes at a time. I haven't had a day like this in ages, which is a very good thing, for I haven't the strength to bullshit like this every day. I couldn't handle that. I was talking to LB today. He's a crazy bastard. I love him though. He's one of many people who have blurred that line between internet chat buddy, and real friend. I've known the guy for almost 3 years now, and we've really been each other's emotional support. This internet thing is really scary sometimes. I've made relationships with people I've never looked into the eyes of. People who I've never touched know me better than people who see me every day. Motherfuckers who live on the other side of the country are more aware of how I feel about my real--life friends than said real life friends are. Technology really has made the world tiny. You can learn anything if you so desire, and you can see things that would have otherwise been tough to find out, if there were no internet. Frank is right, I am a geek. Well, I admit to it all the time. I mean, I have a computer at home, a computer at work, and they occupy most of the time that I don't spend with other humans during the week. Don't get me wrong, I socialize, but I like to spend time at home on the internet, just looking at shit, downloading things, programming my sites, and coming up with new ideas that I won't carry out. I've gotten a lot out of the internet. This diary, some friends, and even some frustration. Oh, speaking of which, I have an ebay bill to pay. Damnit. Yes, I bought the Oreo Barbie. Well, I'm going to go outside, and pretend like I don't fear the sun. Love and adoration, Pam
I'm just a little pissed off that people commented about my wet teeshirt incedent and not my baseball rant. Well, pissed off, but not supprised. I've been fucking around with my layout, because aperently it's "Everyone on diaryland must change their layout" month. hodgson, pure-milk, and many others have been sprucing up their layouts. Now, mind you, I changed this layout about a month or so ago, from the now defunked cloud layout, inspired by vanilla sky. I have to find a new movie to obsess over, and I'm afraid it's going to be a tim burton movie, seeing as how holoween is coming up soon. Or perhaps a south park inspred layout. That'd be bright and funny, and it would match my current cell phone voicemail message. I have Timmy screaming on my voicemail message. It always grabs a good laugh, even from people who haven't seen timmy in action. Well, for now, I'll leave this fucked up layout online, and you people will have to deal with it. For now, I'm going to go pee, and get some rest, and teach my cat not to step on my keyboard. Love and adoration. Pam
Here's an addition to my "Young and Stupid" file. Yesterday I was hanging out at game stop. Illy came by, which is something that she does now that I'm trying to help her get a job at Game Stop, and she knows that I hang out there all the time. So we hang out, and it starts raining. Illy and I were giggiling while frank and darrell got their store-close on. The rain was really hard here last night. It was a big thunderstom and the rain was coming down so hard that it looked like the sky just opened up and droped bucketfulls in place of raindrops. Then while it was raining, Darrell as usual, started offering me money to flash him. Darell is a big ol' pervert. He's a good guy, but he's the biggest outward perve that I've ever been so closly aquainted with. He offered me cash to take my bra off (which I can do without showing the goods) and go run in the rain with my white teeshirt on, and get soaked. Sixty bucks. I was like, "nah" because there were people in the shopping center still, and I didn't want to give a free show to everyone out there. The sixty bucks to go run in the rain was very tempting. I would have done it if there was no one else in the plaza. So then Frank started talking, which is usually a bad thing when Darrells titty deals are involved. He reccomended perhaps the number one thing that would get me to do it. A challenge. Frank said, "Why don't you guys play a game of Uno, and if she wins, you give her 40 bucks, but if You (Darrell) win, she goes and runs in the rain bra-free. I'll deal, and you guys can play Darrell's crazy stacksies rules." This seemed like a great deal! I was all enthused, because I had kicked Darrell's, Frank's, and John's asses at uno. I'm a very good uno player. I have been dubbed the Uno Whore by frank, because I've done such terrible, ass-penetrating things to him with this game in the past. I was pretty sure I'd win, because I have such great strategy. Or so I thought. So Illy, Frank, and a silent Darrell all drove around the conrner in the pouring rain to my apartment. After everyone got settled, Frank dealt the cards for Darrell and I to play. I was nearing a win for about 20 seconds. Frank, that asshole, he dealt us 25 cards. I play much better when I can see all of my cards. When you have more than 11 cards in your hand, it's difficult to see your hands, let alone all of your cards. I knew I should have let Illy deal the cards, because she was more impartial. Frank's been trying to see some Pam nippleage for a minute. Anyway, I had 3 cards left, and I was approching a quick win so long as the color remained blue green or yellow. No such luck. Darrell put down a red card, and fucked me. I started plucking, and got worried as his card amount dwindled down to 5 and mine had jumped back to 7. Around that point, I could feel myself losing, because I didn't have any safety cards (I call the wild cards the saftey cards) and when Darrell put down a wild draw four, I knew I had lost. He put down the wild draw four, changed the color to blue. I started picking up my four cards in vain, hoping that maybe there'd be an uno in store for me at least. No such luck. The motherfucker went out, dropping down all of his draw twos. Damnit. I'd been bested. My uno skills had failed me. My overconfidance had kicked me in the ass yet again, and I had to go outside and do some wet teeshirt action because of it. So I dropped my remaining cards and said, "Well, alright." I went into my bedroom and changed back into the white shirt I was supposed to be wearing in the rain, drug darrel outside, and lo and behold, there was no rain. I was kind of pissed off about that. I dropped to my knees and screamed, "Noooo!" Yes, I really did that. So I ran inside and found Frank and Illy staring out of the window. Those assholes. :-) I grabbed a pitcher out of my sink and filled it with water. I told illy to come outside to pour it on me, and Frank followed behind her. They came outside and Illy apologized for having to pour the water on me. I just told her to go ahead and do it, and so she did. That water was c o l d. The guys got a good show. Yes, it's true. Girls are young and stupid sometimes. Occasionally, even I get stupid in that young sense. After all that went down, everyone hung out at my house for a little while, and we watched south park the movie. The end. Love and adoration, Pammie
OH my GAWD. I just got a phone call. Usually when my phone rings, I try to figure out who it is on the other end of the phone. Around 10:00 there are only a few people who call. My mom had already called me twice, so I figured it wasn't her. Frank usually won't call me until it gets late, or if I text message him. Tiffany will usually let me know if she'll be calling me, and most of my other friends are too damn lazy to pick up the phone. This leaves Crazian John. Yes, the Crazian called me, and it was perhaps the strangest telephone conversation I'd had in quite a while. I walk over to the cordless, and push the talk button, while I simotaneously lower the volume on my television. I tossed the remote to the floor and go, "Hello?" John said, "Holla at yo' Chink!" (Yes, john is asian, hence the "Crazian" title)I was like, "Um, whoot whoot?" Then all of the sudden, John started telling me stuff. Well it was more like he was talking at me. "Yeah, so I don't really know why I called you tink, because I'm about to take a shower. But I figured I'd give you a call, and whatnot. I just got in and I gave Frank a call, and I was like, we should go to Atlantic City, and he was like, '...no!' and so I was like, let's go to Show Boat, and frank was like, 'no!' So I said, let's go to Trump Plaza, and frank was like, 'NO!' So then I started telling him that I was taking a shit, and girls don't have this problem, but when it's really hot our balls stick to the toilet seat. The shit's uncomfortable!" By that point I was randomly giggling at the end of sentances. I hadn't gotten a word in edgewise. He talked at me for about two more minutes. Then he just goes, "Well, I'm feeling really hype, so I'm going to take a shower and maybe that will calm me down." Then we said goodbye. After I hung up the phone, I just started cracking the fuck up. Oh my gawd, he was all kinds of random. That was too funny. He just called me back, and he's telling me all different sorts of game stop stories. He's nuts. Ah, my friends. Love and adoration, Pam started talking, for 5 minutes straight.
Crazy events transpire!! Well, yeah. So it's 11:28, and I'm going to write a two minute entry. Why the hell am I doing that, you wonder? Well, today I'm going to see a baseball game. Yes, Pam is going to go watch Major Leauge baseball. Oh, the irony. Well, Frank asked me to go, so I'm down. I don't hate baseball, so It's not but so bad. I never hated baseball, I just lost all emotion for it. Read the baseball rant below this one. Damn, my two minutes are almost up. See, frank is picking me up at 11:30, and he's a prompt individual, so I suppose I should be ready. I'll give higher quality details later on today, but I really haven't the time for it right now. And to answer questions from inquiring minds, this is not a date. Honest. No, don't look at me like that. You'll understand a little bit better after my entry with better details later on. Love and adoration, Pam
I wrote the following editorial.... I guess you can call it an editorial... in about an hour. Read it, and please let me know what you think. It isn't done yet. Thanks! America is aproacing a time of remembarance, memories, and grief regarding what was perhaps the most tragic event in the country's recent history. Nothing seems quite real, and many people who reside in this great, powerful country are starting to feel weary because of anticipated events, brought on by the past. Citizens filled with frustration, anger, and pain are becoming restless as the time draws near. Major leauge baseball is gearing up for another strike, only weeks prior to the World Series. Yeah, that and September 11th is coming up in less than a month. I remember the last strike pretty well. It's true, chicks do dig sports. When we do, we tend to be farily opinionated about the subject of lajor leauge sports. I enjoy watching a football game and refering to men who are three times my weight as wusses when they can't fall a half an inch closer to a white line painted on imitation grass. There's a bit of enjoyment for me when watching men who are almost one foot taller than I am be denied when making a shot that I know I couldn't make if I sat on Michael Jordan's sholders. But I don't think I like baseball anymore. Once, many moons ago, I was a fan of Major Leauge American baseball. I was drawn to the sport by a summer reading incentive program at my local library. Tickets to see the Philadelphia Phillies were given away as prizes to participants in the program who read a certian number of books in a week. I loved reading, and every child loves rewards. Gladly, I accepted the tickets. Then, in a West Philadelphia library, a young girl gained love and understanding for baseball - even if it was a tad bit boring at times. After the summer of 1991, when the Phillies finished the season third place in their division, I accepted baseball with open arms. Even when I wasn't getting tickets for free, I still watched the sport. It was fairly rare at those times, for a 10 year old African American female to be found enjoying baseball. It's pretty rare to find little girls who are fond of major leauge sports of any race or age, for that matter. I really dug the sport, none the less. 1993 was a great year for the Philadelphia Phillies. Philadelphia is a town with sports teams that deliver championship entrances, and lonely can-kicking results. After the Phillies visited the World Series in 1993 I was entrhalled with baseball, even though they lost. I then decided that baseball was the coolest sport ever created. Then 1994 happened. Since I have always been a very passionate individal about current events I was a very irate teenager when the baseball strike occured in 1994. The 1994 - 1995 strike that left American baseball fans in the cold for 234 days straight was my ticket back to the land of' Baseball Sucks-Ville. I didn't watch baseball for years. It wasn't until recently that I began rethinking my distrust for the entire leauge of overpaid men who wear ugly socks. It was a slow process, but I began to open up to the world of baseball. My angsiety slowly faded as I went to baseball games with my friends. I played a couple of baseball video games. Once I went so far as to actually play a game of baseball with friends in a school yard. Between Sammy Sosa's Pepsi commercials and tickets being sold for less than $20 for the best seats in the house, my faith had slowly been rebulit. America's game had returned to me. Now they've gone and screwed things up. I belivee that a strike at this time is perhaps the most crippling thing that the owners of the leauges can do. Many Americans, such as myself, felt betrayed, abused, and really poor after the last strike. I'm sure I was not the only individual who felt that if men who make at least two hundred grand a year are complaining about their saleries, I must be doing something wrong. What seems to be wrong with this entire situation is that bad buisness is running rampit throughout this country. From Enron to Capitol Hill, Americans are getting screwed. Now we're going to get screwed out of a World Series again. I can't think of anything else intelegent to write. . . so I'm gonna stop. 1994 - 1995 strike http://sportsillustrated.cnn.com/ http://www.baseball-reference.com
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