outer-jessie's Diaryland Diary

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oh whatever, I can't take it anymore

Why would I lie. Why would I? Why would I lie?

I wouldn't. So why should anyone else?

There are people out there who wonder how we got to be so cynical, why we can't trust each other, why we're not eager to help each other out. Do you want to know why it's this way? Well, you can just guess. People lie, people cheat, people hurt each other. Cynicism is self-defense.

Maybe I shouldn't be so hurt. It's not like I had invested so much. But it doesn't feel any better. Why was I so trusting? Bells and alarms should have been going off long ago.

Whew. Let's change the subject.

Ummmm....

I sat next to a woman who smelled like calomine lotion on the T this afternoon. Luckily for me, I like the smell of calomine lotion. No one tell me that that was really just old lady smell, because I will throw up.

So guess what. I've been talking to my mother, who actually sounds happy to hear from me now, and we're all planning to get together for dinner next week. My mother and me and Rob and my father. Rob and my father. (shudder) I don't know. I'll be prepping Rob for the next week. I'm sure my mother will be prepping my father, and my father will be popping antacids like a mad man.

Will & Grace almost made me cry last night. I was pissed. I hate that godawful show that I watch devotedly. The very end of it was a "friendship appreciation" moment. And I almost cried thinking about my bio2 friends. I love those guys. If my life was a sitcom, they'd definitely be main characters, and providers of byte-sized, audience-friendly wisdom.

Should I be a librarian when I grow up?

New mouse story. I went to bed a little late, and tried to get right to sleep, but the rustling in the kitchen kept bugging me. I knew the mice weren't in the trash, because the trash was hanging high up on the oven knobs. I figured they were desperately scouring through whatever else was in the kitchen, but they were being annoyingly loud so I stomped out, turned on the light, and told them to knock it off. The mouse dives out of the trash I swore he couldn't have been, jumps into the burner of the stove, and comes running out from behind the oven and into the bathroom. They've figured out how to get up on my stove! Which is a short jump to my kitchen table, where I often leave plentiful crumbs and sesame seeds and whatever else. And also a short jump to my sink and the place where clean dishes go. This is all bad, you guys. I need traps and soon.

I'm going back to my brooding now. And possibly my work. Yes, I should work. I should have this script finished by tomorrow. I can do that. (throws arms around d-land friends) Thanks, you guys, for setting me straight. It was for my own good, even if it hurt. Love you. (kisses)

2:39 p.m. - 2001-11-09

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