outer-jessie's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- shaken. stirred. God, you SUCK, Netscape. Is there any reason you must kill all my windows when you reach some scary page on the web? I should have listened to that little voice at the back of my head that said I should NOT go to Planetout.com until I was done with my entry. But I really wanted to read my favorite comic there. I hadn't really said much. I was bemoaning the fact that no one had challenged me on the atheistic morality front, and that the Straight Dope message boards were down, and that there was nary a drop of work for me to do, that I actually felt like doing. At least, that was my introductory paragraph. There was more. Damn. And don't tell me I should write in notepad, because notepad does not exist on my computer. Have you ever tried to type something up with vi and cut and paste it into Diaryland? You'd have to take a moment to weigh the risks of Netscape stealing your entries, and you yourself going berserk from having to rearrange all the line breaks. Just trust me. Um... Oh yeah. The six hundred pages I was supposed to read last night. Ha! I got through 113 before Scrubs came on. So I think the chances that I'll finish the book (another 500+ pages to go) before my vacation starts are poor. But that's ok; I'll just renew the book and bring it with me. This will be an improvement over my regular vacation scenario, which involves my toting around two or three half-crappy books and finishing them all in the first day or two, and then having nothing more to read besides the nutritional information of sugar packets. Wow, jokes really don't pack the same punch after you've already told them once. Estree, I mentioned you in my first draft. You and I are so very different. At first I thought you define yourself as everything I'm not, but then I realized it's just as much that I define myself as not everything you are. But not on a personal level; these personalities we created for ourselves were determined long before you and I ever met. You see, I *am* the woman who buys clothes at Walmart, and clips coupons, and buys the "just as good but cheaper" version of everything. Fashion? For Jessie? Pffft. I'm the girl who finds something that looks good on her and buys it in five different colors. Ill wear a pair of shoes for seven years until they fall apart; I buy CVS brand everything. Anyway, my point? Duh... There's a new woman here at work: small, slight, oozing fashion sense and expensive perfume out her pores. When I see her, which isn't often, I smile at her, like you do, because she's new here and I'm trying to be friendly. Thus far, she has not reciprocated. I ran into her in the bathroom yesterday, smiled, and nothing. When she was gone, I compared her to my image in the mirror: her all-black and subtly-bejeweled ensemble and my t-shirt, jeans, and always coming untied sneakers; her slim figure and smooth coiffure and my rounded curves and sticky uppy hair -- I smiled at myself. I like me. Estree's entries often surprise me with the sentiments contained therein, and how different they are from mine. But there is one thing she and I have in common: Diaryland! Though if passing in real life we might shower contempt upon one another, here, we are safe. And friends, at that. GodDAMN it I wish the Straight Dope message boards would let me in. I don't seem to be able to cope without a little debate in my day. How obnoxious. Woo, epiphany. I just realized that one of the major disappointments about this cruise will be lack of trees. Foreign trees rock. There will be palm trees in Tampa but dammit...'tain't the same. It's a good thing I like the ocean. But do I like the Caribbean? I do'no. That was a stupid epiphany. I'm trying not to be too excited that my weekend/vacation starts tomorrow, because I still have eight hours of work tomorrow, and five and a half today. Faaaahgh. Mm, yeah. I'll be swimming tonight, and my friend has a concert in Tufts which I don't think I'll be able to attend, so then why am I telling you about it? I want... When I'm at work and it's nice out, I want to go outside. But when I'm done working, I just want to go home. I hardly spend any time at all outside. Am I ignoring what I want, or am I lying to myself about what I want, or does what I want keep changing? I don't care. Arg. I need the Straight Dope. I neeeeeeed it. 9:43 a.m. - 2002-05-01 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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