denny-1's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Chafing I've never thought of myself as a 'mean girl' but it seems that my patience is being tried and this evil version of myself is immerging from the depths. I'm an honest person, and as such, I find it very difficult to act fake for the sake of keeping the peace...mind you, there are times when I'm the complete opposite...a bit of a dichotomy. The Libra, the ying and the yang. I'm the type of person that loves and hates confrontation. A good debate is like chocolate cake ...however, only when I'm in the mood. Sometimes it's just not worth it...as if the case that your arguing has substance, but the person that you are arguing with has none. In which case, I choose to simply ignore, smile, then node and laugh on the inside at how ignorant the creature is that I'm wasting my energy with...unfortunately, I've found that in life there are more of these situations than the chocolate cake scenarios... Which leads me to my point...mean girls. So, we've got this new guy at work...always the new guy, right. Anyways, he's like a big oaf, an overgrown Hewey, an Italian meatball, who's trapped behind the 'gay' door of his yellow house with his FIVE kids...mean perhaps, honest, definitely. I've lost patience...I can't even attempt to carry a conversation, even in pity. What has this world come to...what has my life come to? I'm subjecting myself to this internal torture. This life of worthless chatter. Oh, the uselessness of it all. What's the point? I mean really, why do these people have to walk into my life, and live with me from 8:00am until 5:30 pm, Monday thru Friday...and then do it all again the next week. More than half of these people I wouldn't even want to subject myself to dinner with...perhaps if I were drunk it would make things better?...actually, no...that would be disastrous... I've lost faith in people. I just can't feel bad anymore...these people need to get a clue. They need to read a book, stop watching Survivor, stop talking about their kids...for fuck sake...have something intelligent to ask me if you're going to interrupt my day. If the mouth is going to open, please, make it worth the nervous systems effort. Oh, I'm rambling...this is absurd. It's come to a point where I'm so frustrated that I'm spending time writing about it... *************** Beauty school is going well. I'm on perms now...It's funny...the way you roll a perm rod is the same way you roll a joint. You even use similar papers to trap the hair so once you start rolling the hair doesn't fly away. I like using the skinny rods, they give this tight afro type curl, and once their rolled it looks like row and rows of joints on the head. I wonder if anyone else has come to this conclusion... *************** I'm having a fat girl day...no more like MONTH. It never fails. Summer, bathing suit season, and my fat ass doesn't fit into anything...Literally. The bottom of my ass falls out of all of my cute little daisy dukes...it peaks out to say, "Hello", "Remember me", "I'm that big hot fudge Ice cream sundae you had months ago" . I think I'll go back on Atkins... ***************** Now I'm depressed, fat, aggravated, and all I want to do is smoke a blunt. 10:34 a.m. - 2004-05-11 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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