Reading rosyxxx's journal

Yes. Yes. I know. But I am in a rather cantankerous mood. I haven't had my morning joint yet, and my macaroni and cheese was just not the best. I prefer the Moosewood brand with Cheddar, Jack and parmesan cheeses, and just a hint of mustard... for that tangy little twist; but, today, I had to eat substandard mac and cheese. Oh well, it's food.

I don't think I ate enough before I went into to work, either. And then I refused to drink at all. Apparently, I have a rep for being a hardcore drinker, except that I NEVER drink more than two drinks at work. It's just that I drink cognac. Either the new vanilla cognac: Navan, or Grand Marnier. I sip it. I don't shoot it. What a sacreligious thing to do... never! But people seem to think I am this amazing drinker, because I ever so slowly nurse a heated brandy snifter of cognac for two hours. They think I am hardcore because the drink is strong and neat. I just like to prolong the orange taste.

But last night, I did not drink. And I was quiet. I didn't have the usual repertoire of goofy jokes. People thought that something was wrong. I said that, no, I was fine, that I am just nicer on Grand Marnier and less likely to mention just how irritating people can be...

First up, there is this girl who stole my money off stage, then offered to split it, then changed her mind, and then pretended that she didn't, and then called me a bitch twelve times. I don't like her very much, needless to say. I am finding it rather hard to have compassion for people such as her... I know that this a perfect opportunity to advance my meditation practice... but somehow I just don't feel like it right now.

Ditto, the girl who keeps trying to get my attention to the point that she is driving me nuts. If I don't talk to her, she starts slowing her speech down so much, that even I, with my residual Tennessee accent... feel like I am waiting for a train that seems to go on and on... Learning to be patient, I think, would be the lesson here.

Goddess, she just never stops. I come in, and she starts being chatty Kathy about the most boring things while I am trying to get my eyeliner straight, and curl my hair. If I listen to her, then my makeup looks like shit. If I don't listen to her, she gets closer and closer, and stares at me. I hate that. Then she'll follow me and try to talk to me, or ask to borrow some ones to tip the bartenders, or to pay for what she ordered from the kitchen... and then she never pays me back. It would be better if she just said: "Can I HAVE some money?"

Then she tells me that she doesn't know what happened, but the girl who stole my money never did any such thing and is crying now. So, I'm thinking, well, she wasn't crying when she took my money, she wasn't crying when she acted all ghetto with me and called me a bitch the first time before she suggested we 'split' the money, she wasn't crying when she changed her mind and decided to keep the money, she wasn't crying when the manager-on-duty had to listen to her contrived story, nor when she stood in the back and called me a bitch another eleven times, and smiled at me as if she had me.

So, now she is crying, and I am supposed to feel sorry for her?

I hate this crap. I have half a mind to do what this one girl does, and come in there with my hair and makeup done, and never set foot in the dressing room again. Just keep all of my friendships outside of that club, with people who don't want to drink and party. God knows I'll age a lot slower.

Beyond that, I just have that whole Greta Garbo attitude today:

I want to be alone.

Tomorrow, I guess I shall feel differently.

Yesterday I felt fine. I went to visit my friend whose house burned, and bought him an assload of Krispy Kreme doughnuts. Krullers, originals, blueberry, tropical something, and raspberry-filled. We sat around watching adult swim, and then the very, very end of the movie: House of Sand and Fog. Maybe... it was the movie. All those attempted suicides kinda got me down, before I went home to go to bed and get up for work.

And then there were just a bunch of obnoxious people at work last night, and I couldn't ignore them by rinsing my mouth out with orange cognac to get rid of the bad taste, because I don't want my head clouded by alcohol for right now while I meditate, and try to find that place of serenity that I almost saw for more than a split second.

My green jade Kuan Yin calls to me... and now that I have digested my mac and cheese, I will bid you all adieu, and go hang out alone with my statue.

If mountain goats like living at high elevations, why do none live in high rise apartment buildings?

I haven't had my morning joint yet

Are you serious?

Are you serious?

As a heartattack. :)

If mountain goats like living at high elevations, why do none live in high rise apartment buildings?

I haven't had my morning joint yet

I don't typically do that, but I know that only one wouldn't be enough after this fucking day that I have had.

Had an exam today: German linguistics II. Basically it was a contrastive approach to German and Italian. In the end I pulled out a 24/30, which is not bad, but it's the whole thing that pissed me off completely.

The professor tested 2 people per time. She starts talking to the girl who was with me, and asks her a pretty idiotic question. She knows how to reply; another question for her, and she knows it. Okay, 30/30 to you. Now it is my turn. She asks me a tough question, and wants me to quote her examples (in German). I do so, but she wants to know exactly the example written at page 127 of the book!! Anyway, another fucking question, another example. Once again she expects me to quote precisely one of the examples of the book (which is the difference between the grammar construction of the two sentences Hier wird Deutsch gesprochen and Hier wird getanzt? None, they are two passives, but she wants the example of the book, which obviously I don't remember by heart).

She goes on and on testing me in this stupid way. And by the way, when I don't know the example, she asks the other girl who doesn't know it too, but of course she gets the maximum score anyway. After having mistreated me for about 30 minutes, she says that she's giving me 24, even if she' making me a present.

I even found out why she had a problem with me: she has seen my book with all the grades of all my exams, and she has noticed that in English my lowest grade is a 25. She hates English! She has repeated it more than once during the exam even! Well at least I told her what I thought after she had written down my grade and signed it.

I said that fortunately for me that will be the last German linguistics exam that I will ever take in my whole life (am going to specialize in English), and that I don't give a damn about the fucking marked constructions, because I can speak German even without knowing all these stupid contrasts with Italian. Well maybe not exactly like this... but these are the words I would have loved to use if I only I had had the balls.

Oh God... I think I really need a six pack of beer now!

Ps. Hey, rosy, sorry for having invaded your private journal with this, but I had to find a way to yell all these things about this motherf**king day I've had!

Un bacio è un'apostrofo rosa scritto tra le parole "ti amo".

...sorry for having invaded your private journal...

Hey girl, I do that shit to people all the time, so who would I be to say no? It's all good. ;P

*puffs*

I think I can help you out on the six pack of beer, if you were just here in the States... someone left a six-pack of Killian's Irish Red in my fridge, and I have sworn off drinking as of today...so I don't want it. I'm not much for beer anyway, I like cognac and red wine. (Not together, of course.) But, from now on I shall only be cooking with wine. Which means that I have a couple of very nice Shirahs and Syraz that need homes... along with a shitload of books.

And on that note, if you are majoring in English primarily... would you like any free books? Harold_maude said she'd take some... I just have to sort them out, and then find both y'alls (the Tennessee girl in me is coming out...) addresses again, and then ship you a few. Just let me know. I always like to encourage literacy.

*puffs*

While I am on that tanget, I think maybe I should just run around the corner and apply for a job as a librarian. Then I could wear my hair up in a bun again (they no longer will let us wear our hair up at work?), and wear my glasses, instead of these obnoxious freaking contacts. Bleh! I want laser surgery.

Speaking of surgery, I wish someone would put our dressing room out of it's misery. Today there was just so much fucking drama. Too much. So, I finally said: "La, la, la, la... I'm not listening, I'm not listening!, and ran. I swore off drinking too, but then the bartender accidentally gave me a Vodka/Cranberry. She forgot that I had said it with a wink. I can't drink Vodka anyway, without turning into the world's biggest bitch, so....after we got that all straight, I went back to business. She apologized profusely, and I said: "Hey, it's not like I'm Muslim and you gave me potstickers."

Which reminds me... I repeated that to the DJ, and he said: "Hey, when you see so-and-so next time, ask him how those all-beef potstickers are..." Ha ha! I find that horribly funny, since our friend was raised Muslim, and he won't eat pork. When he told me that the dude was eating potstickers one day, and didn't know that they are filled with 'Spam', I laughed my ass off. I'm sorry, I know that's bad of me, but I have to get my digs in somewhere, and I am kinda pissed at him, cause he's treating me like 'the red-headed stepchild'. But you know, it's all good. It's all good.... heh he...

I could just eat some potstickers and then try to slip him some tongue... but, I won't. I like the imagery of it, though. It feeds the tiny, little vindictive bones in my body.

So, about your exams... jeesh! Snotty profs. I think you do have the balls to say what you were thinking, but you are too polite to be an asshole like me, and that's good. It's not good to be an asshole. But then again, it is kinda fun. Especially when it involves potatoes.

I rest my case.

And it sounds like your day was worse than mine, so I hope tomorrow is better, or, I mean, today. :) You can invade my journal anytime, honey.

*gets out of the tanning bed with an empty bag of White Cheddar Cheezits*

And I think your English is fabulous! I can't say the same for my Italian.

Oh, on that note... the DJ told me one of our friends went to Mexico and ordered: Il cazzo grande con funghi... when he meant to order Il calzone grande con funghi... and someone else got the word in Spanish for 'asshole' confused with something else, and ordered: 4 assholes.

I need to brush up on my nasty Italian, since there is this girl from Italy who is being a bitch to me at work. All I know how to say to her is: Sono spozita con uno marino. Male, Cativo!

And I don't want to make threats, I just want to make her eyes get really big. I love it when people's pupils get enlarged. It's so sexy.

Today, I feel sassy! :)

If mountain goats like living at high elevations, why do none live in high rise apartment buildings?

This post was edited by rosyxxx on May 18, 2005.

*smiling*...the morning joint...I would love to start the day that way, unfortunately, looking for work and not having the money to do what it is that I'm suppose to do, which is selling my art, that is something I can't do.

I'm very sucky at marketing, I just wanna do art!!!!!

Anyway, these women you work with, the couple you mentioned, remind me of something...ummm..things you find under rocks that go squish, squish when you accidently step on them.

Arn't you glad you don't have to live with them? :)
There are bright sides to look at when these things come up..
I know, I know, you are in a pissy mood..refering to the post, and everyone needs to enjoy the pissyness while it lasts now and again...I know I do at times...just feels damn good to get really pissy and be pissy...

I think it's perfectly ok to look at a mess and say it's a mess.. and just as ok to look at the slimy things and say they are slimy, just gotta remember that a sense of humor durring the pissy moments of our lives makes it a better brand of pissy and really helps the boost the enjoyment of those precious moments.

It reminds me of this guy I met while I was working at the electronics place. He had a wicked sense of humor and had me laughing so hard I was in tears.
He was telling me why he left the band he was in. He got tired of watching the nightly ritual of being subject to watching over made up women trying to incite overly drunk guys trying to go through the mating dance.
He said what really got bad was these women who were old who dyed their hair so it was something along the lines of platinum thinking it made them look 20 something, and it didn't, wearing so much make up that all they needed to complete the look was big shoes and a huge red nose.
*smiling*

Just think, you have some really entertaining, if not completely disgusting people to watch. I think I would probably come up with some really equally distorted things to say to these two girls you mentioned, just to watch them recoil in horror.
And to the one who called you a bitch, the next time she refers to you that way, gently or not so gently remind her that female dogs are wonderful and they make great best friends, and maybe she needs to get her eyes checked because the last time you looked in the mirror you weren't walking on four legs and weren't covered in fur, and don't have a wet nose, let alone a tail that helps to keep your balance straight....:)

*smiling*

It only looks that way because your standing on your head.

*smiling*...the morning joint...I would love to start the day that way,

Well, yes, I do see your point about funds, but as I was telling my friend...food, rent money, and weed are my priorities... in that very order. Everything else comes next.

I went almost a month without the THC due to lack of funds, until I got back on my feet, and, until I did, the mood swings were so wild and all over the place, I feared the worst. Having got back on a regular schedule of actually a 'one-hit' twice-a-day... my father and friends AND employers have informed me that I should probably not change that.

It works better than Depakote, Lamictal, Seroquel, or Geodon, for sure... ya know, Mother Nature is the shit! If it ain't broke don't fix it. My friends sometimes forget though, and say stuff like: "Well, if I had the time to chill and do that..." forgetting that it isn't so much about chilling for me, even though I've been known to do that... it is primarily about keeping the moods a little more even. I am happier when I am on it, and believe me... so is everyone else.

However, I just found a particular pranayama practice touted as effective in changing the course of mood disorders. Kinda like the one I found that is rightfully touted as making asthma disappear. It takes perseverance and great mental strength to make that happen... but I am working on it. I expect, though, it would be fruitless to get the 'doctors' to believe in EITHER the effectiveness of THC, or of pranayama practice. Maybe in another decade? *quietly hopes*

As far as the 'bitch' part, I like your suggestion... but I am thinking hard about having my name changed legally to something with 'Bitch' in the middle of it. That way, if someone calls me a bitch, I can say: That's my name, don't wear it out.

Btw, a heartfelt thank you <3 <3 <3 to everyone who rallied for me, in all the ways that you all did. Just another quiet thank you. *bows head*

And thank you harold_maude. :-)

If mountain goats like living at high elevations, why do none live in high rise apartment buildings?