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I've never written a love song
that didn't end in tears
maybe you'll rewrite my love song if
you can replace my fears
I need your patience and guidance
and all your loving and more

when thunder rolls through my life
will you be able to weather the storm?

there's so much I would give you, baby
if I'd only let myself
there's this well of emotions
I feel I must protect
but what's the point of this armor
if it keeps the love away too?
I'd rather bleed with cuts of love
than live without any scars

baby, can I trust this
or do all things end?
I need to hear that you'd die for me
again and again and again
so tell me when you look in my eyes
can you share all the pain and happy times
cos I will love you for the rest of my life

this is my very first love song
that didn't end in tears
I think you re-wrote my love song
for the rest of my years

I will love you for the rest of my life.

31 January 2004 at 9:45 pm | No Comments »
soundtrack

So, good things have happened.

I just haven't written them down.

Tuesday I got my guarantee that my once-every-couple-of-weeks job that was never supposed to be anything further than temporary moved instead to the realms of under-the-book part-time employment. I now will work a minimum of three days a week, seven hours a day. Which puts my monthly income at about two - three hundred dollars more than what I made at the god-forsaken bowling alley, working half the hours.

I was estatic. To celebrate, my roommate Jake and I got very very drunk whilst watching Hedwig and the Angry Inch and ended up having a night of debauchery the likes of which I shant repeat in type.

I was still hung over by about 1 o'clock the next day.

Then, after calculating my finances and what I imagine I'll get on this week's cheque, this is the first month since moving to NYC, and perhaps the first month since moving out of my parents' house at all, that after paying off all bills, rent, all expenses, EVERYTHING, I have money left over. And not like, a dollar either. Closer to two hundred. I could cry.

I just might.

Things are looking up, kiddos. I knew they would.

They always seem to.

30 January 2004 at 11:59 am | 2 Comments »
the daily things

To you stupid fucking idiots who keep putting moronic addresses into the mailing list box, go grow up or sit on a cucumber.

27 January 2004 at 6:38 pm | No Comments »
bitching

I do believe the aforementioned married, straight coworker has a big thing for me. He's spent the large portion of the day today flirting with me again. And I'm rather confused. It's not as if he's unattractive, and I think to myself in the deeper depths of my head, "it's probably wrong to give this guy an incredible blowjob in the office bathroom, but hell, I'm sure I'd do it anyway."

Because, ladies and gentlemen of the courtroom, I am a whore.

Slut slut slut.

Yes. That would be I.

I had a completely enjoyable morning of waiting in the lobby of my bank to argue my way out of a 150.00 overdraft charge. You see, Leelu wrote me a cheque last week for her deposit, which I cashed, then proceeded to write cheques based off of that amount of money. Cheques which then bounced once her deposit was returned unpaid. So in the course of an evening, I went from having about 800.00 avaliable in my account to -300.00 and owing over a hundred in fees. I almost vaporised her when she woke up.

Jake and I are planning on a house meeting anyway, I think, because there's something about her that's worrying me. Something that really didn't surprise me when her cheque bounced, cos I rather knew it would, which was why I didn't give it to my old roommates, because if I wrote them a cheque for their deposit– or lack thereof– which immediately proceeded to bounce, the girlfriend would call down upon my mortal husk a rain of fire that hath not been seen since Gomorrah.

Anyway, she gave me the money in cash this morning, and I managed to argue the bank into dropping 90.00 of the charge, so Little Miss Leelu owes me 60.00. And then I will not kill her.

Money is so much fucking trouble, christ.

27 January 2004 at 6:26 pm | No Comments »
the daily things

Oh, and since I forgot to mention before, I decided to go all out on the domain route and throw myself fully into 1st-flight.net. Please change all links if you've got 'em.

26 January 2004 at 4:01 pm | No Comments »
hear ye!

I know, I'm deplorable. I need to update more, there's no excuse. I know, I know. But! I come bearing stories.

C.S. will murder me when I post this, but it's too halarious to keep within the confines of my head.

So he and I are– using his term– "seeing each other now," which denotes sleeping together and the possibility for sleeping with others as well. We're not exactly dating, but he's not running off to the cold reaches of my mind either, so I'm glad.

Anyway, in my quest sometime back to become a Better Bottom (TM) I purchased my first sex toy. Yes people, this entry as well should be considered existing in the realms of TMI. Read at your own risk.

So yes. I bought a dildo, and it was a special little dildo, with detachable head pieces to provide maximum, um, comfort? It also vibrates. So C.S. and I were having sex, and fucking royally, and slamming beds against walls and so forth, and I was using the dildo on him because he's such a top, bwah. And apparently, upon finishing such activities, one of the detachable heads detached but neither of us noticed it. Until C.S. realised where it had detached after a rather unexpected bout in the bathroom.

Hah.

I went to grab lunch today and as I was gathering up my man-purse to leave, two cute boys sitting behind me giggled and not-whispered, "Wow, he's really cute!"

Which was nice to hear, considering I decapitated my follicles last night.

I was inspired to cut my hair myself, but I used too-short of a setting without realising it, as I started cutting the back first (stupid, stupid me) then looped around to discover that my skull was shining. So now I look like a nazi chemo-patient, but I'm apparently still really cute.

And now I'm listening to my "straight" co-worker telling me about the one time he sucked dick, and apparently he'd like to do it again or something, with a knowing wink in my direction.

Ahem.

26 January 2004 at 3:56 pm | 4 Comments »
shutterbugs, the daily things

the decline of algebra

I stood up from my desk, raised my hand, and declared that today I would be a fish.

"That's lovely," said the teacher. He started scribbling on the dusty green chalkboard. "Class, if x is equal to the amount of time that he wasn't a fish, and p equals the amount of time needed for the conversion of fin-less, bipedal Homo sapiens to aquatic meal, and d is directly proportionate to the velocity required to break out of Saturn's orbit–"

I walked over to the centre of the room and proceeded to cluck like a chick-e-phant while lime scales broke out over my body.

"–But g stands for the amount of effourt it takes a Jehovah's witness to travel from point f to point I, which also relies entirely upon variable y: the amount of energy required for the individuals at points f and I to slam their doors–"

One of my classmates stood up. "Professeur, le poisson danse avec l'oiseau!"

"–Oui, et a est egale a quatorze grande pasteques–"

In the midst of my metamorphosis, I felt that my feelings on the subject would be best related through a song and dance number from the musical Armageddon Ballet. At that moment, the class stood up and started singing a haunting rendition of "Disco Inferno."

"–And we mustn't forget that b equals the length of time that a marine animal who hasn't reached the evolutionary stage of sophisticated lungs can survive without water, and w stands for the effect of gamma rays on green scales–"

I started to dance a jig with a Jamaican Leprechaun who happened to appear right at the chorus of the song. But it's not particularly easy to jig with fins. Closing my eyes, all of the students stopped singing and started to crowd around my squishy spot on the floor. One of them poked me with a pen.

"Can we eat it?"

22 January 2004 at 1:40 am | No Comments »
poetry/prose

So things flip-flop between good and bad. C.S. and I are certainly better, but then my happiness diminishes on another front.

Today was the day of the Battle of the Old Roommates.

Forgive me if you can feel my rage forming in these words, because I'm so pissed right now I believe I could eat a jew. As I believe I've written in here before, my roommates (the old ones) all alerted me to the fact that they'd decided to vacate mid-Decembre. Their move-out date was the 1st of January. So this gave me roughly two weeks to find two new people to fill their rooms.

Needless to say, I was stressed out.

I found a roommate for the smaller, less expensive room almost immediately, and gave the old roommate her deposit. The larger room was harder to fill, partly because the people living in it, an annoying fucking couple that I'm glad to be rid of, hadn't actually moved OUT until the 6th of January, despite the fact that they said that they were leaving a week before that.

So, I didn't find somebody to move in until the 15th. The very short of the story is that they expect, even though they gave me no notice and made no attempt to find somebody to replace them, their full security deposit back in the amount of 1050. The girl (Leelu) who's taking their room, isn't really moving in until the 1st of February, and it's gracious that she even agreed to pay for any part of January. But that's because I wanted to get the couple back some of their deposit, even though I'm certainly not paying out of my pocket for the rest of it.

There was no lease, and in NYC you're required to give 30 days notice at least if you want your deposit back. So they're not entitled to anything.

However, we had a horrible telephone arguement, first with the girlfriend who was beyond irrational, and then with the boyfriend who made the mistake of raising his voice at me once and then I immediately immasculated his little buff self in a heartbeat and put him in his place. I'm so angry right now I'm vibrating in my rolling-chair.

I stepped away for a little while and I lost my train of thought.

Now I'm eating a sandwich.

My moment of unintentional comedy for the evening:

boy: what are you doing?
me: watching comedy central.
boy: o whats on
me: the state of the union address.

21 January 2004 at 12:55 am | 4 Comments »
bitching

I know my little selves so well.

So well, so nice, everything outside can be. And in here, darkness. It never fails, no matter how hard I'd like it to.

Our mad machine is infalliable. We can't be stopped when we're sitting here stopping ourselves.

Keep that in mind, all you who think you've got the key to fix it. Fuck you all, what makes you think you hold any more power than the ones who've tried right behind you? Don't fill your heads with pretty ego.

We're much too far gone for flattery.

16 January 2004 at 9:28 pm | No Comments »
in a category all its own

So, the story. Well.

I have a friend, who originally was a prospective roommate, but through various mishaps that changed and now I'd like desperately to have sex with him.

He came over last night, since this was his first night in moving to NYC, and I offered to let him stay, because I have a big crush and even though I knew it was a bad idea, I entertained the thought of sleeping with him.

He's from Texas, and has quite the cun'try twang, which I've assimilated a lot of just in the 12 hours he was here. Well, he broke up with a boyfriend of three years to move to NYC, but as he told me last night, they've decided to get back together again on the contengent of an open long-distance relationship. So I tossed and turned in my head, because he further informed me that even with this distinction he didn't know if he'd be able to have sex with somebody else yet.

That having been said, he proceeded to fucking flirt and tease me all evening.

It probably really started after he ran off to take a shower, and I jokingly (ha) told him that he had to leave the door unlocked, since that was a house rule. So he said yes and winked. Then, when he was getting out of the shower, I was on the phone with Leelu, and I was talking about him, knowing that he was well within earshot, ofcourse, and I was commenting on how I wondered if he'd followed the rule or not. His response was opening the door a crack to answer, I imagine. Then he walked out of the bathroom in his underwear.

I won't even talk about his body.

The underwear didn't stop though, because that was all he wore the rest of the evening. I sat down on the couch to watch tv, and he proceeded to lounge around in his boxer-briefs before settling his head in my lap. But we didn't have sex.

The worst little detail of this devious fucker was that, this morning, Jake discovered he had "accidentally" forgotten his toothbrush here. I'm floored. I am shocked, and awed. That's something I'd do.

15 January 2004 at 10:24 pm | 1 Comment »
the daily things