Friday, September 29, 2006

Find A Penny, Pick It Up...

I need good luck. Not that things are terribly bad, but things can always be better, right? It's all part of my ongoing process to better myself along my journey of existence by systematically "out-lucking" people. I believe that outside of certain factors (i.e. education, poverty, health) things are pretty much a level playing field for how successful you can become, so you have to rely on luck to do the rest.

"But wait!”, you say,” What about those jerks I know that always seem to be getting ahead because they lie,cheat,and steal?"

Well I'm not talking about those people. They don't count. In fact, they suck and they will have to deal with their own karma later down the road. I'm talking about us. Normal (relatively), Hardworking (matter of opinion), and Honest (as long as you don't count cheating on a diet.)

So if my non-researched theory backed up by absolutely no scientific evidence holds true, "Almost all men are created equal...not including aforementioned mitigating factors, of course."

This leads me to my latest point of obsession...the abandoned penny that has been left on the floor of the bathroom stall at work.
Why do you tease me penny? Why do you sit there day in and day out knowing that perhaps you have the ability to change lives? If I pick you up does that make me gross? Desperate? Archaically Superstitious?
You have consumed my thoughts. I have even waited patiently, Penny. Made small talk with people using the facilities, but even they don't see your beauty and my curious yet hopeful question, "Hey I dropped some change in there, is there any left that I missed?" falls on deaf ears and quiet rumbles of disgust. Even the custodian has given up hope and left you alone to wallow in the germ infested stall of ungratefulness. But not me. I will wait. It’s just me and you penny. Or is it "you and I"? Does proper grammar even matter? How can it, when all that truly matters is Lady Luck...

Wednesday, September 27, 2006


So I was working late at work this week and an email with this picture is sent to me by my boss. Fine.

I really can't recall ever having a conversation about the "Hoff." Never. Not once. Maybe if I had a conversation in the kitchen at work discussing David's "said" artistic merits, I can see the relevance. All I am left to wonder is "Why"? and dear Lord, "What does this say about me"?

I may have an image problem around here...

I put it as my desktop image and left it up all day...nobody said nuthin'. I really wanted someone to tell me it was offensive so I could be like, "Yeah? Really? Well talk to the boss...that's who sent it!" But nope. Nobody cared. I guess Hasselhoff has been so lame for so long, that it's just not funny...even if he is sodomizing puppies. Or maybe it's me, maybe I've been the one that's been so lame for so long and it's just expected that I would find Hasslehoff to be Hi-fuckin'-larious.

Like I said, I may have an image problem around here...

Monday, September 25, 2006

Never Underestimate The Bad Taste Of ...


I have an addiction to seeing films. Well I guess films are considered "good" stuff and movies are "not so good" stuff. So let me rephrase and say that I am addicted to watching crap. No, I'm not fooling myself into thinking, "Hey, this may have potential". I literally know this movie is probably going to suck, but I don't have much going on so I will attend. But lately Hollywood is churning out poo all over the place...even too much for a low standard loving movie hack like myself.

Case and Point- Hollywoodland and The Black Dahlia

These movies were released within two weeks of one another... (as if anyone was going to forget the film noir shitfest that was just dumped on them the week prior!) I wish I could go on about how awful it is knowing I've lost four hours of my life on these movies, but the more time I spend obsessing, the less time I have left on the planet to complain about the fact that...

We are about to be bombarded (well let me clarify and say "I" because I am sure I will be the only one who willingly sees these films) with Infamous, which is another version of Capote. Even in the previews they allude to the possibility that we might not give a rat's ass, by using the tagline, "There's more to the story than you know." Really Hollywood? Really? Are you assuming my only knowledge of Capote's experience while writing "In Cold Blood", was the amazing world that Phillip Seymour Hoffman invited me into? Wow. you got me.

Surely, even Truman Capote, one of the most self-involved writers of his time, is looking on all this and saying, "Enough already! I'm sick of me!"

So in summation let me say that I ain't picky, but come on! Cut the crap ,Hollywood. Seriously. Cut the crap films and leave them on the editing floor. The world will be better off for it.

And by the way, somebody out in Hollywood owes me $10.75 for the cost of my Black Dahlia ticket. I'm not asking for anything back on Hollywoodland because I snuck into The Covenant right after. See, I can be fair.

Tuesday, September 19, 2006

Sad But True...

Phone conversation:

MOM: Why did you call me earlier?

ME: I'm worried about my eyes. I got up from my computer at work and everything around me was blurry.

MOM: Sounds like you need glasses.

ME: That's what I thought, so I made an appointment to get my eyes checked, but then I realized I have to cancel.

MOM: Why?

ME: I booked an appointment to get my hair done at the same time.

MOM: Your hair is taking precedence over your eyesight?

ME: Pretty much. I'll get farther in this town as a blonde, than I ever will wearing glasses.

MOM: That's awful. Is this because of that "Bergdorf Blondes" book you left here last time you came to visit?

ME: Ummmm, Maybe?

MOM: You waste your money on paperbacks.

Monday, September 18, 2006

Black Out

Work was too much for me to attempt today. Trying to "look busy" was exhausting me. It seemed a perfect time for me to reward myself for getting halfway through Monday by walking to Macy's to get the new Chanel Nail polish in Black Satin. I saw it in a magazine and thought, "Hey, I can wear that." After all, Lindsey Lohan, Hillary Duff, and 3 blondes from 2 different MTV shows can't be wrong. Right?

So I walked on down to the counter to get some trendy goodness. I asked for black satin and the counter lady looked at me like I had three heads.

"It's all gone." Helga told me with feigned dissapointment. Yes, the lady looked like she was a Helga.

"Well can I place an order?" I asked.


"No, why?"

"It's all gone. Limited edition." she said. "But you can find it on ebay for 200 dollars."

I left speechless.

Chanel nailpolish costs 18 dollars a bottle which is already a crime, and it made me realize I can go to Walgreens and get the same color by Wet and Wild for two bucks. ..all I need is a good topcoat to do the trick. Who pays 200 dollars for nail polish? Seriously, tell me who you are and why you do it...I will get Sally Struthers on your ass!!!! Shame on you Chanel, and shame on you Ebay sellers who upsell. But more importantly, shame on you crazy consumer-person who buys from better things with your money.

But thank-you Walgreens. I like you.

Sunday, September 17, 2006

Because Your Kiss Is On My List...


1. I spend most of the day laughing.
2. Guys younger than me love me.
3. I sleep better when I am naked.
4. I spoke at my college graduation.
5. I'm loyal. To a fault.
6. I love March Madness, University of Miami Football, and the Baltimore Orioles.
7. I drink one Diet-Coke a day.
8. I want a dog, but I don't want the work or the less spontaneous lifestyle that comes with it.
9. People never guess my age right. Or my weight.
10. I am not afraid of change (this includes coins).
11. I could live on a diet of Pizza and Sushi.
12. People compliment me on my legs at least once a week.
13. I still dance in front of my mirror.
14. I like my hair.
15. I'm not a big fan of ice cream.
16. I can't type.
17. I was in a beauty pageant.
18. I am a fan of Karaoke and can sing a kick-ass version of "Hit Me with Your Best Shot."
19. I wear fake nails because I can't stop picking at my real ones.
20. I get bad migranes when it rains.
21. I hate the smell of cigarette smoke. I hated it even when I was a smoker.
22. The state of Texas makes me nervous.
23. I don't trust boys once I find out they are in a band.
24. I get embarrassed whenever I have to list to people all the places I have lived as an ARMY brat. I feel like after the 14th place, people start to think I'm just making shit up.
25. I don't think I meet many smart people now a days.
26. I secretly despise the New York Yankees.
27. I can't stand Yams or Chinese Food.
28. I hate the way I look in glasses.
29. I am a military dependent, as well as a liberal. The only people who don't think we exist, are narrow minded liberals.
30. I don't really enjoy coffee.
31. I wish I could paint.
32. I was an awful waitress.
33. I find most actors to be self-involved and obnoxious.
34. I can have a conversation with anyone.
35. I don't know how to whistle.
36. I hate going to bed at night because I think I am going to miss something when I fall asleep.
37. I wish I was a lawyer, because there is a lot of unjust shit out there that I want to fix and a lot of obnoxious people I would like to sue.
38. I'm not fooled by the Angelina Jolie "Feed The World/ We are the World/ Do they know it's Christmastime" do-gooder stuff.
39. I love hugs.
40. I have laughed so hard I have pissed my pants.
41. I try to tell my Friends and Family "I Love You" as much as I can.
42. It freaks me out that people can see my name on TV in the credits of whatever show I am working on.
44. I tried out for my high school cheerleading team because it was important to my Mom. I made the Varsity team as an 8th grader and I couldn't even do a cartwheel...they said they gave me a spot because I was the loudest.
46. I'm kind of setimental, but I have a hard time showing it.
47. At night I have a fear someone will try to break into my apartment, so I lock myself in my bedroom.
48. I broke my kneecap at the World Trade Center.
49. If I died tomorrow, I would be happy with all of the things I've seen and done.
50. I'm full of contradictions.
51. I feel so lucky to have a college degree.
52. If I were to describe my writing style, I would have to say "Awesome".
53. I have had plastic surgery numerous times...and have no regrets.
54. I think naps are overrated.
55. I was always on Homecoming and Prom Courts in High School. I didn't win crap.
56. In college, I redeemed myself by dating "Mr. University of Miami".
57. I love betting on the ponies and make it a point to meet up with my Kentucky girlfriends every year to go to the Derby.
58. I had to get spinal surgery and the doctors put metal rods in my back. I lived in a wheelchair for a year. Looking back, it seems like that happened to someone else.
59. Other people's children exhaust me. Which is a shame, because they really are cute little people.
60. My father has been gone for 10 years now and I still think about him every day.
62. I find that the mountains of North Carolina are one of the most amazing things I have ever seen.
63. I like boys who are super nerds or super jocks, but I can't seem to find either lately.
64. When I was in pre-school my Mom got called in for a meeting with my teachers because I was kissing all of my classmates. My Mom covered for me by saying, "We're Greek. That's what we do."
65. I have worked as a comedian and professional actress in several national shows. One of my proudest moments was when I got my Equity card.
66. My brother has more natural talent than I do.
67. I hope I look as good as my Mom when I get to be her age.
68. I love living in New York City.
69. I feel blessed every day.
70. I have been in a bar fight.
72. My favorite drink is a Dirty Vodka Martini Straight Up with Olives.
73. I don't think I will ever be a morning person.
75. I don't win many things, but when I do, it's usually something really kick-ass.
76. I don't like the rain unless I am in bed.
77. My favorte number is 13 and I've got a thing for Ben Affleck. I guess I like the types of things that most people usually fear.
78. I love reading and writing poetry. I have even had one of my poems published.
79. Going to Disneyworld is amazing. As a cynic, I always am looking for proof that maybe it really isn't the "Happiest Place On Earth", but I can't find any evidence. But I did go backstage once, and saw "Mickey" without her head on. Yup, Mickey is a 5"1' Cuban girl.
80. My toes look weird to me.
81. I can speak a hint of three languages.
82. When I was in middle school, I spent my summers at Vacation Bible Study, listened to Christian music, and went to a Baptist Church...even though I am Greek Orthodox.
83. I'd like to go back to the "Roaring 20's" and try being a flapper, so I could show off my "gams"...but then I would want to come back right away.
84. When I lived in Miami, my hair was usually a hot mess.
85. The first time a boy told me I was beautiful, I was in 8th Grade.
86. I stop watching American Idol once they pick the contestants.
87. I think about food a lot.
88. I think technological puchases are smart, even though I know a new version of the product will soon be on the market.
89. I love going to movies by myself.
90. I avoid conflict at all costs.
91. I get nervous around people once I find out their astrological sign is Aries. I can think of one exception.
92. I know proper grammar but I prefer catch phrases.
93. I have no working knowledge of Math. I think I have dyscalculia.
94. I tend to be late to work.
95. I have a fear of driving.
96. I cry at the opening ceremony of every Olympics.
97. Sometimes I will call my Mom at 2 in the morning just to talk.
98. I love the state of Kentucky. I didn't live there long, but in my heart, its home.
99. This is the longest amount of time I have ever spent thinking about myself.
100. Today is my birthday.

Friday, September 15, 2006

Do I Look Like I'm Trying To Work My Way Through Nursing School?

I took a cab home last night. I specifically stated my street and avenue. My cab driver got the street right, yes, and missed my avenue by one. Mistakes happen. Fine.

I realized he had stopped in front of a strip club near my house.

He said, "Here you go, Miss".

Excuse me???

I said, "I'm trying to go home. I don't live here."
Then I repeated my address so there was no confusion this time.

I wonder, did he think I was looking to be entertained, or that I was the entertainment?????

At least he called me "Miss". There's something to be said for manners... Jerk.

Thursday, September 14, 2006

Seems Fishy to Me

Last night I had a friend come in to NYC who was visiting from Chicago. I had to kill some time before we met up and I had a killer craving so I found a sushi joint nearby the hotel where we were meeting. I walked in and asked to sit at the sushi bar. As a former waitress, I hate taking up extra space at a table during a dinner/ lunch rush when I can easily sit at a bar and get my meal on.

As I looked around I noticed the only Japanese people in the place were the two sushi chefs working in front of me. All the other men in the restaurant, including the waitstaff, were wearing Yarmulkes. Ummmmmmmm...

What? I checked out the menu. I had stumbled into a Kosher sushi restaurant. So I look around. There is nothing remotely Japanese going on in this restaurant. All I see is a Menorah and paintings of historic events in the history of Israel and Judaism. Okay. I can handle this. But I know that my Kosher friends don't eat shellfish. As someone who has lived in Maryland, and craves crabs, I'm not sure how anyone can handle this. God loves lobster. I just know it. If I get up, I won't get to explain that, "Hey, I just happen to really like shellfish. You know the spider roll, the tempura fried soft shell crab rolled in rice and seaweed? I need it. Now." Instead if I get up, I will be a racist. A Jew hater. But that's the farthest thing from the truth. I love Jews. Seriously. I've even slept with a few.

So I eat my bagel roll ( which is a Philadelphia roll with smoked salmon) and deal. I wonder what the Japanese chef thinks of all Mexicans get mad at Taco Bell? Do Itallians find Olive Garden offensive? Do the Chinese hate Panda Express?

Or perhaps the Japanese chef is Kosher and I'm the idiot. Fair enough. But at the end of the day, I still get to eat oysters!!!!!!!! (As long as it is a month ending in the letter 'R'.)

Tuesday, September 12, 2006

PT Barnum Was Right...

Two events of note:

1) Last night during the Presidential Address regarding September 11th, the only word President Bush stumbled on was "Intelligence".

2) Justin Timberlooser's album "drops" today.

(Proof positive, that in this country, you don't have to be very talented to get very far.)

Monday, September 11, 2006

This Little Light of Mine...

I can see the "Tribute in Lights" where the World Trade Center once stood, shining through my apartment window. It was cloudy earlier and I was getting upset that I couldn't see them, but the clouds have now broken and the beams have made their way into my living room. I count on the lights every year to make me think, to take a moment to reflect. New York City at night can be so quiet . Especially tonight. Maybe the city just knows. It knows to be still, to take a moment to breathe, to be at peace. Times like these make me believe that the city is a person. The sadness is always palpable on September 11th. Tonight I pray for many things. I should do that more often.

Ken Olbermann Kicks Ass.

This was passed along to me and I felt compelled to post it in case anyone chooses to watch...
This commentary by Ken Olbermann was profound, touching, and poignant. May it not get lost in the media saturation that surrounds this day...

This Hole In The Ground

Half a lifetime ago, I worked in this now-empty space. And for 40 days after the attacks, I worked here again, trying to make sense of what happened, and was yet to happen, as a reporter.

All the time, I knew that the very air I breathed contained the remains of thousands of people, including four of my friends, two in the planes and -- as I discovered from those "missing posters" seared still into my soul -- two more in the Towers.

And I knew too, that this was the pyre for hundreds of New York policemen and firemen, of whom my family can claim half a dozen or more, as our ancestors.

I belabor this to emphasize that, for me this was, and is, and always shall be, personal.

And anyone who claims that I and others like me are "soft,"or have "forgotten" the lessons of what happened here is at best a grasping, opportunistic, dilettante and at worst, an idiot whether he is a commentator, or a Vice President, or a President.

However, of all the things those of us who were here five years ago could have forecast -- of all the nightmares that unfolded before our eyes, and the others that unfolded only in our minds -- none of us could have predicted this.

Five years later this space is still empty.

Five years later there is no memorial to the dead.

Five years later there is no building rising to show with proud defiance that we would not have our America wrung from us, by cowards and criminals.

Five years later this country's wound is still open.

Five years later this country's mass grave is still unmarked.

Five years later this is still just a background for a photo-op.

It is beyond shameful.

At the dedication of the Gettysburg Memorial -- barely four months after the last soldier staggered from another Pennsylvania field -- Mr. Lincoln said, "we cannot dedicate, we cannot consecrate, we cannot hallow this ground. The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here, have consecrated it, far above our poor power to add or detract."

Lincoln used those words to immortalize their sacrifice.

Today our leaders could use those same words to rationalize their reprehensible inaction. "We cannot dedicate, we can not consecrate, we can not hallow this ground." So we won't.

Instead they bicker and buck pass. They thwart private efforts, and jostle to claim credit for initiatives that go nowhere. They spend the money on irrelevant wars, and elaborate self-congratulations, and buying off columnists to write how good a job they're doing instead of doing any job at all.

Five years later, Mr. Bush, we are still fighting the terrorists on these streets. And look carefully, sir, on these 16 empty acres. The terrorists are clearly, still winning.

And, in a crime against every victim here and every patriotic sentiment you mouthed but did not enact, you have done nothing about it.

And there is something worse still than this vast gaping hole in this city, and in the fabric of our nation. There is its symbolism of the promise unfulfilled, the urgent oath, reduced to lazy execution.

The only positive on 9/11 and the days and weeks that so slowly and painfully followed it was the unanimous humanity, here, and throughout the country. The government, the President in particular, was given every possible measure of support.

Those who did not belong to his party -- tabled that.

Those who doubted the mechanics of his election -- ignored that.

Those who wondered of his qualifications -- forgot that.

History teaches us that nearly unanimous support of a government cannot be taken away from that government by its critics. It can only be squandered by those who use it not to heal a nation's wounds, but to take political advantage.

Terrorists did not come and steal our newly-regained sense of being American first, and political, fiftieth. Nor did the Democrats. Nor did the media. Nor did the people.

The President -- and those around him -- did that.

They promised bi-partisanship, and then showed that to them, "bi-partisanship" meant that their party would rule and the rest would have to follow, or be branded, with ever-escalating hysteria, as morally or intellectually confused, as appeasers, as those who, in the Vice President's words yesterday, "validate the strategy of the terrorists."

They promised protection, and then showed that to them "protection" meant going to war against a despot whose hand they had once shaken, a despot who we now learn from our own Senate Intelligence Committee, hated al-Qaida as much as we did.

The polite phrase for how so many of us were duped into supporting a war, on the false premise that it had 'something to do' with 9/11 is "lying by implication."

The impolite phrase is "impeachable offense."

Not once in now five years has this President ever offered to assume responsibility for the failures that led to this empty space, and to this, the current, curdled, version of our beloved country.

Still, there is a last snapping flame from a final candle of respect and fairness: even his most virulent critics have never suggested he alone bears the full brunt of the blame for 9/11.

Half the time, in fact, this President has been so gently treated, that he has seemed not even to be the man most responsible for anything in his own administration.

Yet what is happening this very night?

A mini-series, created, influenced -- possibly financed by -- the most radical and cold of domestic political Machiavellis, continues to be televised into our homes.

The documented truths of the last fifteen years are replaced by bald-faced lies; the talking points of the current regime parroted; the whole sorry story blurred, by spin, to make the party out of office seem vacillating and impotent, and the party in office, seem like the only option.

How dare you, Mr. President, after taking cynical advantage of the unanimity and love, and transmuting it into fraudulent war and needless death, after monstrously transforming it into fear and suspicion and turning that fear into the campaign slogan of three elections? How dare you -- or those around you -- ever "spin" 9/11?

Just as the terrorists have succeeded -- are still succeeding -- as long as there is no memorial and no construction here at Ground Zero.

So, too, have they succeeded, and are still succeeding as long as this government uses 9/11 as a wedge to pit Americans against Americans.

This is an odd point to cite a television program, especially one from March of 1960. But as Disney's continuing sell-out of the truth (and this country) suggests, even television programs can be powerful things.

And long ago, a series called "The Twilight Zone" broadcast a riveting episode entitled "The Monsters Are Due On Maple Street."

In brief: a meteor sparks rumors of an invasion by extra-terrestrials disguised as humans. The electricity goes out. A neighbor pleads for calm. Suddenly his car -- and only his car -- starts. Someone suggests he must be the alien. Then another man's lights go on. As charges and suspicion and panic overtake the street, guns are inevitably produced. An "alien" is shot -- but he turns out to be just another neighbor, returning from going for help. The camera pulls back to a near-by hill, where two extra-terrestrials are seen manipulating a small device that can jam electricity. The veteran tells his novice that there's no need to actually attack, that you just turn off a few of the human machines and then, "they pick the most dangerous enemy they can find, and it's themselves."

And then, in perhaps his finest piece of writing, Rod Serling sums it up with words of remarkable prescience, given where we find ourselves tonight: "The tools of conquest do not necessarily come with bombs and explosions and fallout. There are weapons that are simply thoughts, attitudes, prejudices, to be found only in the minds of men.

"For the record, prejudices can kill and suspicion can destroy, and a thoughtless, frightened search for a scapegoat has a fallout all its own -- for the children, and the children yet unborn."

When those who dissent are told time and time again -- as we will be, if not tonight by the President, then tomorrow by his portable public chorus -- that he is preserving our freedom, but that if we use any of it, we are somehow un-American...When we are scolded, that if we merely question, we have "forgotten the lessons of 9/11"... look into this empty space behind me and the bi-partisanship upon which this administration also did not build, and tell me:

Who has left this hole in the ground?

We have not forgotten, Mr. President.

You have.

May this country forgive you.

Engine, Engine, Number 9...

...on the New York Transit Line, if the train should jump the tracks, pick it up, Pick It Up, PICK IT UP!!!

Being that it's September 11th and all, I was thinking of Firefighters, Firefighters make me think of fire engines, fire engines make me think of Black Sheep's old school hip-hop song that is now stuck in my brain...

For real though, some of the girls I work with are going to the firehouse around the corner to take cupcakes to the firefighters there. Come On!!!! My first instinct was, "you whores. you total whores." Do firefighters want cupcakes on the fifth anniversary of September 11th? It seems odd or so damn sweet I can't decide. Either way, I'll donate to the cause. If I don't, I'll look cold and like I could care less about 9/11. The truth is, I could care less if these girls get laid, and I have to give money to them to buy cupcakes so they can put on lip gloss and trot over there and come back to the office giggling about the "cute" firefighter...that they met on my dime! I can't believe I'm going to give them money. UUUUGH...

One of the girls in the office called the New York Fire Department to get the number of the nearest firehouse so they can decide where they can take their "goodies". The NYFD answers the phone, "Fire Department. Where's the fire?" They really say that! I wanted to get the number from her just so I could call back and hear them answer the phone. That way when they ask, "Where's the fire?", I can say, "In my pants!" Who's the whore now?

I love beefcakes, I mean, cupcakes.

Friday, September 08, 2006

Hate It or Love It

"Indifference is the kiss of death". Huh? What? Yup. I think I'm suffering from indifference (or my blog is.) Sorry folks, but I've just been feeling not quite myself lately...When I was in high school my Mom ripped out a fashion ad with that quote on it and gave it to me. It was advertising shoes and the ad featured a bright purple suede shoe. It made no sense to me but I thought it looked cool so I hung it in my locker next to my mirror. I looked at that ad all the time.

In retrospect, my Mom (I think) was passively trying to convince me that the bright purple suede jacket she had just bought me was not as ugly as I thought it was because "see even fashion magazines think purple suede is in" and "it cost a lot of money". My Mom ,at the time, was big on getting us things that she thought were nice because we needed to learn to have an appreciation for finer things. Once she turned into a single parent that philosophy wasn't as progressive or important...obviously. But that's a whole other post...What that ad did teach me though, is that the last thing I ever wanted to be thought of in this life was "indifferent" or "apathetic".

So it really bothered me that I had been feeling all kinds of "out of sorts" lately. I think I had just turned all my anger, confusion, and stress into indifference because that was the best way for me to get out of bed and show up at work. A girl needs to eat and keep a roof over her head...I think.

I've been hiding behind the, " If you don't allow yourself to feel you can't get hurt" kind of philosophy lately, and it turns out, apathy, is not hot. See sometimes Paris Hilton may look apathetic, or "hot" as the kids say, but that's misleading, because deep down she's not, it's just her lazy eye that makes her appear that way. Wonky eyes are a tricky thing. (That has nothing to do with nothing, but I felt compelled to mention it anyway.)

My apathy had to do with my sublet leaving, my regular roomies returning, my ass landlord, and my poopy job (which is not, nor ever will be cool.) Well I'm done feeling bad for me and I need to get back to being awesome. the world needs it.

You know who else needs it? Fiddy Cent. He got arrested today and brought to the precinct across the street from where I work. All I saw was his fancy Lamborghini. It showed me that, see everyone has problems, but his will probably cost more than mine...and more people will give a shit. So Fiddy, you got 3 weeks buddy, to get back to being awesome. That's all I took. the world needs it.