so,

I quit my job job job job job job job job I quit my job job job job job job job job
I quit my job job job job job job job job I quit my job job job job job job job job
I quit my job job job job job job job jobI quit my job job job job job job job job
I quit my job job job job job job job jobI quit my job job job job job job job job
I quit my job job job job job job job jobI quit my job job job job job job job job

And it is SO good. Like a 200lb weight has been lifted, which technically it has...

My creative license has been censored here, because I won't lower myself....


tricia read the mail and said she was going to throw up. dnna, the new chick i work with, said that it seemed a bit unstable...and also commented that she had a relationship with a man who was both a drunk and a coke head and boy oh boy he kinda sounded like that when he talked sometimes. WEIRD.

so i haven't talked to big mama hurd yet, but feel better posting this...

i am praying that big mama hurd calls. ahhhhhhh...sweet revenge.



i feel like...

i'm in a weird romantic comedy of v is for vendetta or something.

and i just have to give props where props are due...and gob will both like and hate this...but do you remember the tbone speech? i know you do, cause i don't exactly...but if it's shit, jump off, it sucks but do it, and if that's shit, try something else...remind me...i don't know that it's entirely a coincidence that i quit my job like a day later. so please please please tell tbone thank you.

in other news.

the new job is ok, the office is very hot. i bought a 2007 vw beetle. it's yellow. i bought a new blackberry. i'm opening my own business, and taking any ideas on the name (it's a writing/training/consulting thing). i bought a new laptop so he can have his back. the people i work with don't swear. tomorrow i get to go train nurses who fix people. on friday i work with dnna. i have a bunch of paper to shred. i'm going to sit and drink and probably cry and tell the landscaper everything tonight, then nestle in his arms and watch the movies GOB said i'd hate but i think i'll like.

i'm finally making some sort of something.

you asked? this was all i ever wanted.

i can make it.

Why I don't get Chinesejokes or proverbs, even when tranlated very carefully and patiently by Frankman or Bradleymeister.

The Coca-Cola name in China was first read as “Kekoukela”, meaning “Bite the Wax Tadpole” or “Female Horse Stuffed with Wax”, depending on the dialect. Coke then researched 40,000 characters to find a phonetic equivalent “kokoukole”, translating into “Happiness in the Mouth.”

Cute...

I wanna rub their little otter bellies.

ok ok i didn't post the actual description of my dog breed result but i think GOB will find this one so much more rewarding....




You're a Leopard!


Discover Your Past Life

Brought to you by Tickle


Not much is certain in life — past or present — but we know this much about you: In your last life you were a sultry leopard named Lola (LOLA???WHAT?). You were a showgirl, with yellow feathers in your hair and a dress cut down to there. You would meringue and do the cha-cha. And one night at the Copacabana (the hottest spot north of Havana), you fell in love with Tony, the handsome bartender (LOL). Tony fought Rico (he wore a diamond)(I LOVE THIS ASIDE..HE WORE A DIAMOND? OH! WELL THEN...BRING IT ON RICO...WAIT THINKING OF THAT METAPHORICALLY OR FRANKLY NOT SO METAPHORICALLY I CAN SEE THE DIAMOND THING...OI) for you and won. The two of you grew old and happy together, joyfully dancing your lives away at the club to the soulful tunes of Barry Manilow.

Not a puggle...but we don't want to be EXACTLY alike right? riggggght.





You're a Cocker Spaniel!


What Breed of Dog Are You?

Brought to you by Tickle

the landscaper and i went to the jay/yankees. great seats, great game...great night.

and now

i'm sick as hell. i don't know if it was the mixed sub that sat in the bottom of the fridge and was horribly overpriced or what...but sick. as. hell. gross.

i'm waiting for GOB to offer her well cooked soup or something. god knows no one else will.

the landscaper...

comes over at night in coveralls with beer
and we sit and watch werner herzog movies
until we're both buzzing enough that the movie
is just the background noise to the long
winding conversations
he talks to molly in high pitches
he talks to me in low pitches
almost whispers
there is a gentleness about him
where i know he knows he could hurt
but won't

when i first got molly
he wouldn't touch her
terrified he'd hurt her
maybe that's what it's like with me

in hushed tones
he'll say
he doesn't believe anything i say
when i tell him
how much i need him want him
how weirdly non-bitter and non-cynical he makes me
how well we talk, how well we touch
non-intrusive and real

nothing ever happens

and when all the movies are done
he's changed out of coveralls and into
the only
man clothes i have as pj's
and insists on using my toothbrush
i wake up in the morning
his arms around me
morning kiss
belly rubs
and life
the day
is so very very good.

i think
it takes time to know what love is
i think it takes a lot of time
way more than i ever thought
and i think i'm just now
starting to understand
so much
about love
from a guy who's into
plants

i suppose if he can fix a yard
he might be able
possibly
to fix me
i just need a little watering
some sunlight
get rid of the weeds
and inject me with
fertilizer...
ahahahahahaha...

i couldn't help it...funny.

so rob. or boots as he will now be known.

in my ever searching quest for fun and normalcy...

was great. took molly into the city, very near the annex to small little apartment much like mine, and sat on the back deck and talked and drank creemore beer until he blushed...we talked about movies and music and love and indifference, and molly, and life, and school...

it was great. he's a great guy, and you know the weird thing, i think there is this odd misconception, i don't know if it's a misconception about ME, but definately one directed toward me at verious times of my very recent life, that if you have money, no matter how weird you are, and how immoral, and how unexciting, and how unable to sit around for 8 hours and talk with me you are...if someone has money, and this is apparent with the office brat too, but in a different way, you are entirely insecure in any situation that is not atleast 70% dependent on the ability to throw around and impress with the money...from buying a beer or coffee to taking you to thailand just cause to i dunno other random money things. which WHATEVER. i'm not saying it's not fun and exciting and whatever, but i think it only sweeps you off your feet for a bit, and then all of a sudden, you just see this not very attractive guy, who's entirely insecure, unable to discuss anything you like to discuss, and not really caring to discuss anything, who really you are just not freakin compatible with.

so. i drive up to this little apartment in a relatively nice part of the city. and i sit in the back on this little ikea patio set and there's nothing to drink in the house, and he's wearing boots that he FOUND, and he cuts his own hair, and reads and talks and we spend all night laying on his mattress watching hell's kitchen...

and GOD it was great.

i remember gob saying that she's always attractive to the chain smoking broke guys. i guess i am too. deep down.

oh and he looks like this (which is not my "type" per se but...yeah):

i've always been a writer. even when i was young. little diaries with little teeny tiny locks...

sometimes what i write is what i mean, sometimes it's not. when i write, it's how i feel. that's it. i don't know if how i feel is "true" i don't even know if feelings are that righteously possible i just know it is at that moment the best way of vocalizing how i FEEL. now, i'm not aware of having written anything that would cause someone the need to 'clear' ones name. frankly, i don't even know what that means apart from dramatic linguistics.

relationships suck. i hate when they end. it's rare that i hate when one is but this round, i hated what is was, and now that it's ended i don't know if i hate it. i hate being alone. i like my hair. it's purple. i stopped drinking. i like the landscaper, we went fishing and talked and talked and talked. the office brat made me post on CL, so i went out with a film graduate on friday. he was quiet reminded me of fph but shorter. it's rare a guy is too short for ME but he may be. great smile though. tonight...rob. very very funny, should be good. so i'm having fun, and i'm ok and have really accepted that at this point in time he and i are not conducive to each other's lives. i see it now. huge. i should have before but didn't. i'm such a tunnel visioner while "in love."

so i told you that weird ramble, because instead of fighting things....i change my response to them...

writing has always been important to me. this whole blog thing? i like it.

however.

my creative license on here is being both monitored and possibly, inappropriately commented on with equally inappropriate "threats."

that's all i can say.

so i will work a little later in the week to move the entire blog to a new "anonymous" address.

email me here: faintedink@yahoo.ca

and i will tell you the new blog address.

it's hard being irresistable...but all the bullshit afterwards sucks like crazy.

there is so much more i want to write.

but i won't.

i mean i will. just not here.

erg.