outer-jessie's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- at least I'm not pregnant I've fallen deep in like with Alicia Keys. She reminds me of...somebody. That was a pre-script. Here is the script. On Saturday night, I was stood up by everyone under the sun ;) I think I invited no fewer than 15 people, directly and indirectly, to Melissa's show on Saturday. And I went alone. Which ended up being a good thing, because otherwise people I know would have witnessed my having to stop on my way there and yank off one sexy boot, because I had stuffed a twenty in it and couldn't get it out. Walking alone down a dark street in sexy boots does make me nervous, but we have to look at the silver lining here. When I finally found Melissa, I had the extreme pleasure of being mistaken for someone who actually had anything to do with her performance :) The waitresses, well, the blonde one in particular, came to me when she wanted Melissa to "take it down a notch." I was like AWWWW YEEEEEUH, but I had already slurped down one vodka cran by then, so these things are to be expected. Melissa was amazing. She's funny and comfortable with the crowd, not to mention being extremely talented. But she really wooed me with her wee small Alicia Keys cover, which was little more than a sound check. (sigh) She's adorable, and after my second drink I wanted to make out with her, especially when she was pressing herself up against my sexy boot-clad legs. I can say these things, because she doesn't read my diary. ;) Mwahahahaha. That's (sexy boot)-clad. Not sexy (boot-clad). I have nice legs, but I'm not *that* enamored with them. Next time Melissa has a show, and I say come, you better come, beotch. I ran away before I could make too much of a drunken fool of myself, and amused my anxious self during my walk home by repeating the words "agregious" and "agape" out loud. So that was Saturday. It was fabulous, I loved it. I was proud to be The Girl Who Got Drunk By Herself for the first time, and The Girl Who Kissed Melissa's Cheek for the first time. A banner day. Sunday was Saint Patrick's Day, of which you are most likely already aware. It was disappointing in that I'm living in Boston and didn't even bother to go out, but don't for a minute think that that means I didn't drink up and honor my Irish forefathers. Not a bit of it! Rob and I made a fantastic Irish stew that we ate with soda bread and booze while listening to U2 and the Cranberries. It was ridiculously contrived, but I'm too much of a stickler to let a holiday go by without doing my little thing. Especially not Saint Patrick's Day. It's sacred, for crying out loud. Hee hee. What happened yesterday? Hmm. Well, it snowed all damn day, and tomorrow is supposed to be the first day of spring. Orbitally speaking, of course; it really does nothing for the weather. Tomorrow is the vernal equinox, when the day and night are of equal lengths, so hence forth the days will be longer than the nights, until the solstice in July. Sorry, June. Right. Well anyway, there was that, and there was some whole wheat bread baking, which I was scared about because of the failure of my last banana bread. That, and I didn't have the right ingredients, so I had to wing it. I wang it. But it came out pretty tasty, so I'm proud. Too bad the rest of dinner sucked, but that's what happens when you buy your tortellini at Star. Disclaimer: I love Star. It provides me with cheap food every day of the year. But dammit! You can't go around trusting them to have delicious frozen pasta. Rob and I have been having such a great time together lately. I don't know what to thank for how well we've been getting along. Hell, I had PMS this week, and we still fell asleep and woke up laughing. I hope it lasts. I really try not to take things (e.g. PMS irritability) out on him, and be positive and happy when I'm with him, and show him and tell him how much I love him, all the time. More so than with anyone else, because this, as I see it, is the most important relationship I have, other than the one with myself. But everything is so delicate, and I'm not sure how to maintain my priorities, my outlook. Because everything changes. I just hope I can remember...how to remember what's important. Estree: DON'T GO. If I check your page and write a note in your guestbook every day, will you stay? Is it so horrible to want acknowledgement of your thoughts? Can't you fulfill many aspects of your personality with a diary? Sure, it's egotism in some ways, but in other ways, it's unselfish sharing. Of your words and writing style and personality and vision. Plus, you make up some of *my* stats. It's reciprocal back-scratching, baby! I'll let you go if I must. But I won't be happy about it. Speaking of which, Rob and I saw The Way We Were last night. I didn't expect to watch the whole thing, its being an old Barbra Streisand movie and all, I didn't expect Rob to like it, but he kept watching it while I built my bread empire. So we ended up watching the whole thing, and it's a great movie. Barbra and Robert Redford are two amazing people who love each other very much, but can't be together. Incompatible, hopeless lovers. Very poignant and sad. I only mention it because I wonder if it would mean something to some people. But Let's move along, merrily and so forth. Somebody remind me to pack all the presents I owe people when I go to the Cape this weekend. I owe my sister her birthday present, half of which I refuse to give her until she comes to Boston and helps me pick it out. I still have souvenirs from Florida to give my friends, and by now I owe my father his birthday present. My far away friend turns 22 on Thursday, so I must pick her up something as well. I'll have to go to the mall again tomorrow. SOMEBODY STOP ME. Tell me I don't need sheets. Filene's keeps saying It's All Inside, and I don't know what the hell that's supposed to mean as far as Filene's is concerned, but they keep drawing me in to find out anyway. I just. Like. Housewares. I must be stopped. In other not-very-new news, the Biosphere job. Will it happen? Still no word from Meredith about the RA job, but that's because everyone's on vacation. I expect I'll find out by the middle of next week-ish. On Sunday I'm supposed to call my old professor at her house to talk about the TA position. I desperately (not exactly *desperately*) want the job, but I don't want to jump the gun on my friend. At the same time, I don't want to lose the job to someone else who acted faster. Dammit. I should think about these things another time, like when my uterus isn't clenched like a newborn baby's fist. I miss the Biosphere. But am I just doing this for the comradery? What if the comradery left with me the first time? Oh well, that remains to be seen. Like everything else. 12:12 p.m. - 2002-03-19 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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