August 26, 2002
Okay. It's Monday, I'm back.
The good thing is that I'm rested and calm. All Zen-like.
The bad thing is that I have to go back to work tomorrow.
Life sucks. Epecially if you're posting on a dialup connection that makes your posts disappear.
The good thing is that I'm rested and calm. All Zen-like.
The bad thing is that I have to go back to work tomorrow.
Life sucks. Epecially if you're posting on a dialup connection that makes your posts disappear.
August 23, 2002
Helloooooo!
I'm not back yet. I'm still in Aruba, and I'm slightly tanned, too. But I needed to check my e-mail before hotmail decided to get rid of my daily porn messages, so here I sit on a cybercafe in Palm Beach posting about the fact I still need a computer despite the fact I'm on vacations.
There's things to say when I come back, tho. Hot guys in here -- and I mean HOT, HOT gringos. Melissa's wedding was a blast. And I'm still broke, but at least I'm here, right?
Lauren, I'll be back on Monday. I swear. {{hugs}}
I'm not back yet. I'm still in Aruba, and I'm slightly tanned, too. But I needed to check my e-mail before hotmail decided to get rid of my daily porn messages, so here I sit on a cybercafe in Palm Beach posting about the fact I still need a computer despite the fact I'm on vacations.
There's things to say when I come back, tho. Hot guys in here -- and I mean HOT, HOT gringos. Melissa's wedding was a blast. And I'm still broke, but at least I'm here, right?
Lauren, I'll be back on Monday. I swear. {{hugs}}
August 16, 2002
See that beautiful beach? That's where I'm going on Sunday morning -- a week off vacation to Aruba.
The sad part of it all is that I'm broke. But there's going to be some major relaxation. Miggie is happy.
Three posts in a day! I think I'm lightheaded.
Last night was Melissa's civil wedding. You know, write down in the dotted line and all. It was gorgeous. Gorgeous. I have no words to tell you how beautiful it was. We almost cried and everything -- I have no idea how we're going to react on Saturday when we see her walking dwon the isle. Who knew our corny little selves would arise? And to think we were trying so hard to kill the mushy side with irony and mischief, but it didn't work.
It was a small, intimate ceremony with only the family and us, her college friends. You were there and you'd feel not only little heart's in everyone's eyes, but the loooo-ve! I'm not kidding you. Of course, there was plenty of champagne and wine to blame for the afective demonstrations, but people were happy for them. Passionately so.
On the guy front, I must get this off my chest. So rant ahead.
The Best Man. You see, this guy repeatedly hit on my friend Nohelia when she visited Meli and Canin Austin. Nohe kept on telling us how awesome this guy was -- educated, witty, a great dancer, a true gentleman and everything. A prince without a horse. Finally we met him for real last night. And you know what's this guy like? Austin Powers. Without the funny.
See, he kept on saying these totally awful lines to us, and we decided to take it as a compliment at first, but after he did it 20 times in an hour, it was just plain, shameless ass-kissing. He kept on hitting on all of us at the dinner in front of Nohelia, who must have felt bad but never said anything or acted like something wrong was going on. And yet she's been the most attentive, loving person ever with him, who's an undeserving bastard who only wants to have a shag (with anyone!) before going back home. I HATE IT.
It was a small, intimate ceremony with only the family and us, her college friends. You were there and you'd feel not only little heart's in everyone's eyes, but the loooo-ve! I'm not kidding you. Of course, there was plenty of champagne and wine to blame for the afective demonstrations, but people were happy for them. Passionately so.
On the guy front, I must get this off my chest. So rant ahead.
The Best Man. You see, this guy repeatedly hit on my friend Nohelia when she visited Meli and Canin Austin. Nohe kept on telling us how awesome this guy was -- educated, witty, a great dancer, a true gentleman and everything. A prince without a horse. Finally we met him for real last night. And you know what's this guy like? Austin Powers. Without the funny.
See, he kept on saying these totally awful lines to us, and we decided to take it as a compliment at first, but after he did it 20 times in an hour, it was just plain, shameless ass-kissing. He kept on hitting on all of us at the dinner in front of Nohelia, who must have felt bad but never said anything or acted like something wrong was going on. And yet she's been the most attentive, loving person ever with him, who's an undeserving bastard who only wants to have a shag (with anyone!) before going back home. I HATE IT.
This week a coworker's daughter, Jessica, has been visiting the office this week since she's on school vacations and everything. I've known her since she was 8 (she's 11 now), and she's actually my friend -- in fact, I become her age when we're together, which makes things way more fun. For example, we were the only ones giggling maniacally and shrieking on the Harry Potter movie. When we watched LOTR for the umpeenth time on the teather and the Two Twoers trailer came up, we were grasping each other's arms like crazy teenies. And when everything was over, we would scream at each other with excitement. So great.
So when I'm stressed, like 5 minutes ago, she comes running towards me with arms wide open, smiling. She gives me the biggest hug ever, kisses the top of my head with so much warmth and love that suddenly, the world is not that bad after all.
So when I'm stressed, like 5 minutes ago, she comes running towards me with arms wide open, smiling. She gives me the biggest hug ever, kisses the top of my head with so much warmth and love that suddenly, the world is not that bad after all.
August 9, 2002
Last night was my friend Melissa's Bachelorette Party.
I'm trying to find an adjective for it and I can't. It was like a Roman orgy, only with our clothes on. I had never been dry-humped so much in my life... and enjoyed it THIS much. But really, you should have seen the stripper -- there's no way a human body can be that hard. I'll just say I've never been so perverted in my whole life. I feel downright porn today. Hehee!
I'm trying to find an adjective for it and I can't. It was like a Roman orgy, only with our clothes on. I had never been dry-humped so much in my life... and enjoyed it THIS much. But really, you should have seen the stripper -- there's no way a human body can be that hard. I'll just say I've never been so perverted in my whole life. I feel downright porn today. Hehee!
August 8, 2002
Happy 26th birthday, JC. I know you're too busy to read this, especially since you're in *NSYNC and everything. But really, have a good time. I'll hug you if I could. Actually, I'd do more than hug you, but that's another issue entirely. But call me anytime -- I'm available. And for whhat it's worth, I have big boobs, dude.
Sorry for the spam, but I missed some quizzes. ;-)
Who's Your 80s Movie Icon Alter-Ego? Find out @ She's Crafty
What's *Your* Sex Sign?
Who's Your 80s Movie Icon Alter-Ego? Find out @ She's Crafty
What's *Your* Sex Sign?
August 7, 2002
CNN: Oasis members hurt in car crash
Yahoo: Oasis Band Members Hurt in Car Crash
BBC: Oasis stars hurt in crash
Oasisinet.com: Oasis car smash in "Indy" -- show postponed
Thank God they're fine... but for a moment there I stopped breathing. And touring the US for them is definitely Bad Mofo karma for Oasis. All kinds of weird shit happens to them when they're there. Gah.
August 3, 2002
Oh, and the new layout is coming up soon to a blog near you.
First off -- happy belated birthday to me! No, not that one. One year ago this week, I made my first post on this blog. It was a dumb one, actually, and I lost the picture it had. But you can still see it in the archives...
Anyway.
The last couple weeks of my life have been very hectic. One of my best friends, Melissa, is having her wedding on the 17th, and of course we're all taking part on the preparations for the big day, which of course includes the bachelorette's party (stripper included). Apart from the fact that these things take time, they take money. You have to buy a ridiculous amount of penis-related merchandise for the bride, including the kinky gifts she'll receive (cuffs, edible underwear, an assortment of crotchless panties and a vibrator for exclusive use in the car). You also have to buy the booze in the bar and tip the strippers nicely so they rub their bulges onto the bride.
You also need a nice dress for the wedding. And shoes. And makeup. And usually, you need a date too.
This is where my problems start.
See, last week I found out that half my girlfriends have planned to get married within a year. That's fucking terryfying. I mean, I remember as if it was yesterday this bunch of naïve freshman girls in College, and now they're all soon to marry. One of them even adopted a kid. And I was there, practically gaping, trying to sound not too shocked when I hugged them and congratulated them. It's a bit puzzling to see your friends moving on with their lives when your life's biggest worry is to find out that Legolas action figure on eBay. I went into this depressive frenzy where I ended up wondering what the fuck was I doing with my life, because I must be severely fucked up if I'm not thinking about marriage like the rest of my age group.
When I came to my senses again, I thought, yeah, I'm kinda fucked up, but not for that. However, for them, it's deeply disturbing that I don't even have a boyfriend.You see, every single one of my friends attending Melissa's wedding will have a date, except moi. So they're worried, because really, if I keep up like this, I'll probably end up being the Cat Lady. I'll die alone and nobody will know I died until two weeks later, when the stench of my rotting body bothers my neighbors.
I'm starting to believe that too, and I hate they're doing that to me. I hate the fact I'm starting to feel miserable around them. I hate that my self-esteem is slowly sinking to a deep, bottomless hole. I hate the fact that I feel more lonely and invisible than ever before in my life.
But what I hate even most is the fact that thay're all trying to pair me up with someone before the 17th. As if I was 40 years old and desperate to have a shag before menopause finds me. As if they feel ashamed to be around the single, pathetic girl.
So I have to find a way to tell them all to fuck off without comig out too rude. Because that's my damn problem, really. I won't lie and say that I'm tough and I don't need no stinkin' boyfriend because I'd be lying. I do want to find someone, but not like this. And especially not when I'm feeling like this.
Maybe I'm missundertanding them. I sincerely hope I am. Because I haven't felt so shitty in a long, long time.
So that's why I haven't feelt that chatty lately.
Anyway.
The last couple weeks of my life have been very hectic. One of my best friends, Melissa, is having her wedding on the 17th, and of course we're all taking part on the preparations for the big day, which of course includes the bachelorette's party (stripper included). Apart from the fact that these things take time, they take money. You have to buy a ridiculous amount of penis-related merchandise for the bride, including the kinky gifts she'll receive (cuffs, edible underwear, an assortment of crotchless panties and a vibrator for exclusive use in the car). You also have to buy the booze in the bar and tip the strippers nicely so they rub their bulges onto the bride.
You also need a nice dress for the wedding. And shoes. And makeup. And usually, you need a date too.
This is where my problems start.
See, last week I found out that half my girlfriends have planned to get married within a year. That's fucking terryfying. I mean, I remember as if it was yesterday this bunch of naïve freshman girls in College, and now they're all soon to marry. One of them even adopted a kid. And I was there, practically gaping, trying to sound not too shocked when I hugged them and congratulated them. It's a bit puzzling to see your friends moving on with their lives when your life's biggest worry is to find out that Legolas action figure on eBay. I went into this depressive frenzy where I ended up wondering what the fuck was I doing with my life, because I must be severely fucked up if I'm not thinking about marriage like the rest of my age group.
When I came to my senses again, I thought, yeah, I'm kinda fucked up, but not for that. However, for them, it's deeply disturbing that I don't even have a boyfriend.You see, every single one of my friends attending Melissa's wedding will have a date, except moi. So they're worried, because really, if I keep up like this, I'll probably end up being the Cat Lady. I'll die alone and nobody will know I died until two weeks later, when the stench of my rotting body bothers my neighbors.
I'm starting to believe that too, and I hate they're doing that to me. I hate the fact I'm starting to feel miserable around them. I hate that my self-esteem is slowly sinking to a deep, bottomless hole. I hate the fact that I feel more lonely and invisible than ever before in my life.
But what I hate even most is the fact that thay're all trying to pair me up with someone before the 17th. As if I was 40 years old and desperate to have a shag before menopause finds me. As if they feel ashamed to be around the single, pathetic girl.
So I have to find a way to tell them all to fuck off without comig out too rude. Because that's my damn problem, really. I won't lie and say that I'm tough and I don't need no stinkin' boyfriend because I'd be lying. I do want to find someone, but not like this. And especially not when I'm feeling like this.
Maybe I'm missundertanding them. I sincerely hope I am. Because I haven't felt so shitty in a long, long time.
So that's why I haven't feelt that chatty lately.
August 1, 2002
From last week's Em&Lo's sex column on Nerve.com:
I'm feeling dirty, desperate and helpless; even though I'm a veg, and do hate every form of cruelty to animals, every now and then I get excited — and I mean excited in the true sense of word — if I think of a chicken being killed by wringing its neck. The point is: What I actually find hottest are the spasms, the flapping of the body, tremendously shivering and shaking in death's grip. That's why I painstakingly search the web in my quest for stuff about "chicken killing"; I get more and more horny, and sometimes I save texts in my folders and read them when I feel in the mood. I find my mind an enemy, so doing, and, apart from feeling dirt and guilt all over myself, I'm seriously considering the idea of getting a psychotherapist's advice. Why am I so perverted? Mind you, I never never never eat meat nor do I kill animals, not even mosquitoes. But why these odd and dirty orgasms? Why hens and roosters? Why, damnit, why?
— Rate My Cock
Best thing I've read this year.
I'm feeling dirty, desperate and helpless; even though I'm a veg, and do hate every form of cruelty to animals, every now and then I get excited — and I mean excited in the true sense of word — if I think of a chicken being killed by wringing its neck. The point is: What I actually find hottest are the spasms, the flapping of the body, tremendously shivering and shaking in death's grip. That's why I painstakingly search the web in my quest for stuff about "chicken killing"; I get more and more horny, and sometimes I save texts in my folders and read them when I feel in the mood. I find my mind an enemy, so doing, and, apart from feeling dirt and guilt all over myself, I'm seriously considering the idea of getting a psychotherapist's advice. Why am I so perverted? Mind you, I never never never eat meat nor do I kill animals, not even mosquitoes. But why these odd and dirty orgasms? Why hens and roosters? Why, damnit, why?
— Rate My Cock
Best thing I've read this year.