Tomorrow begins another week, and we will see yet another brave soul leaving our ranks in the pursuit of a (hopefully) much better (read: less abusive) work environment.
And so the exodus continues, albeit at the rate of a geologic process. Boss uses every opportunity to impart to me the importance--nay, the necessity!--of having a solid store of work experience before moving on to the next step in life. I would be lying if I said this didn't grant me some ounce of pleasure, knowing that my decision to leave or stay is a source of anxiety for Boss.
Sunday, March 27, 2011
Sunday, March 20, 2011
rain rain go away
I've been holed up at home for the past two weeks, which is not really conducive to having fun at all, so despite the forecast promising rain for the whole weekend, I was determined to have a good time (read: be social).
When Friday night rolled around, I was ready to have a delicious dinner with a friend who might have a crush on me, until he told me that was not going to happen until 10pm. Fuuuck that. But man, I sure was looking forward to good food after a shitty day at work...you would need a pick-me-up too if your Boss insinuated more than once that you will excel in the domestic domain, as if it will be your defining role in life, and carried on like you should be proud of hearing this crap.
Doesn't matter, Saturday had me covered. Elise and Leigh scooped me up for a late lunch at Roscoe's Chicken and Waffles in Pasadena, which ended up really hitting the spot. Fried chicken & gravy, mac & cheese, candied yams, and (what I'm guessing were crack-laced) waffles with syrup and salted butter on top. How did I never try this until yesterday?
We walked around Pasadena afterward, stopping to ogle chocolate-covered confections and ice cream ads but too full to actually do anything more than stare, drool, and move on. As the food coma slowly set in, we went back to Elise's house and got comfortable. Before I had time to think twice, the camaraderie that came of our girl-bonding seduced me into revealing my streaking story from senior week. We all had a good laugh at that one, though they wondered why I didn't tell them sooner. Well, I couldn't help but feel like they would've judged me (and maybe they did) as it's not something I would normally do...oh well, I REGRET NOTHING!
Saturday night came around and Leigh and I met up with some high school friends for a birthday celebration at Verdugo Bar. Got drunk for the first time in a while but not on anything I asked for...this bar's kind of weird as they don't make drinks that are normally offered at bars. AMFs and Irish Car Bombs were not on the menu, so I settled for a Tequila Sunrise that tasted like medicine and a Lemon Drop which apparently didn't taste the way it was supposed to. But they did the trick and good times were had, so I'm not complaining too much. I do have to bitch about the stupid cloud coverage that prevented me from seeing the supermoon though...it started raining again by the time the bar closed.
I awoke to the sound of thunder this morning and even now it's still raining bullets outside. Kind of depressing, especially since tomorrow is the beginning of another week of hell...
When Friday night rolled around, I was ready to have a delicious dinner with a friend who might have a crush on me, until he told me that was not going to happen until 10pm. Fuuuck that. But man, I sure was looking forward to good food after a shitty day at work...you would need a pick-me-up too if your Boss insinuated more than once that you will excel in the domestic domain, as if it will be your defining role in life, and carried on like you should be proud of hearing this crap.
Doesn't matter, Saturday had me covered. Elise and Leigh scooped me up for a late lunch at Roscoe's Chicken and Waffles in Pasadena, which ended up really hitting the spot. Fried chicken & gravy, mac & cheese, candied yams, and (what I'm guessing were crack-laced) waffles with syrup and salted butter on top. How did I never try this until yesterday?
We walked around Pasadena afterward, stopping to ogle chocolate-covered confections and ice cream ads but too full to actually do anything more than stare, drool, and move on. As the food coma slowly set in, we went back to Elise's house and got comfortable. Before I had time to think twice, the camaraderie that came of our girl-bonding seduced me into revealing my streaking story from senior week. We all had a good laugh at that one, though they wondered why I didn't tell them sooner. Well, I couldn't help but feel like they would've judged me (and maybe they did) as it's not something I would normally do...oh well, I REGRET NOTHING!
Saturday night came around and Leigh and I met up with some high school friends for a birthday celebration at Verdugo Bar. Got drunk for the first time in a while but not on anything I asked for...this bar's kind of weird as they don't make drinks that are normally offered at bars. AMFs and Irish Car Bombs were not on the menu, so I settled for a Tequila Sunrise that tasted like medicine and a Lemon Drop which apparently didn't taste the way it was supposed to. But they did the trick and good times were had, so I'm not complaining too much. I do have to bitch about the stupid cloud coverage that prevented me from seeing the supermoon though...it started raining again by the time the bar closed.
I awoke to the sound of thunder this morning and even now it's still raining bullets outside. Kind of depressing, especially since tomorrow is the beginning of another week of hell...
Friday, March 11, 2011
this again and MORE
Well, then. Admittedly it was a little funny at first (even as the object of scrutiny), but the situation has quickly become a bit more serious.
Over dinner, she casually mentioned that she wants to take me out for scar removal "treatment," the same way one might announce the need to purchase more milk...
...which seriously made me doubt whether she knows what such treatment could entail. On top of that, where was my consent when this decision was made? I mean, last time I checked, my face was still--gasp--mine!
Worst case scenario: lasers. And she has to be delusional to think I'd let anyone come near my face with those. The woman has gone mad. Mad, I tell you!
Over dinner, she casually mentioned that she wants to take me out for scar removal "treatment," the same way one might announce the need to purchase more milk...
The fuck?
...which seriously made me doubt whether she knows what such treatment could entail. On top of that, where was my consent when this decision was made? I mean, last time I checked, my face was still--gasp--mine!
Worst case scenario: lasers. And she has to be delusional to think I'd let anyone come near my face with those. The woman has gone mad. Mad, I tell you!
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
this again
Mom: These beauty queens aren't even that beautiful.
S: Yeah, even I'm hotter than them.
M: But your skin's not good. Let me take you to get it fixed!
S: No!
M: All the boys will be fighting over you afterward!
S: They already are.
S: Yeah, even I'm hotter than them.
M: But your skin's not good. Let me take you to get it fixed!
S: No!
M: All the boys will be fighting over you afterward!
S: They already are.
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