2005-02-02 - 9:49 a.m.

Jobs suck

Just called for another job that's already been filled. Now I have officially reached the bottom of the barrel. I am absolutely not going back to foodservice... and yet, I'm at the point where an opening in which I dress up in a styrofoam costume looks not so bad. Seriously. All I would have to do is dress up like the statue of liberty and stand on the street in front of Liberty Tax Service. The pay is good, the hours are reasonable, and the job would end March 14. And then I remember that I once swore I would never, ever subject myself to a giant foam costume... well, at least it's not dressing up as a hot dog or a muffler.

2005-02-02 - 9:01 a.m.

study your damn Deutsch

I have obsessive-compulsive-facebook-checking disorder. Nope. No one has messaged me, no one has changed my wall, no one has further contributed to the group discussions I participate in.

So here's my challenge- to not check facebook again until after my German class. In fact, in all this time that I spend checking facebook I should be studying my German.

Ich kann nicht gut Deutsch sprecken. Ich bin sehr doof. Ich muss Deutsh lernen, aber ich will nicht jetzt lessen. Ich will huete Computerspielen. *sigh*

I bought some Halloween costume make-up yesterday. It had slipped to the bottom of the "discontinued/damaged merchandise" shopping cart in HEB. It was marked down from 5 bucks to 25 cents. Hell yeah.

In other news, I'm gonna call for a job in a little while. I didn't want to do it yet because I don't want to wake Jason up. He's still snoring on the futon. It's really quite endearing, but he has to get up eventually. Just like how I have to get a job... eventually.

2005-02-02 - 8:41 a.m.

gossip

Denae went to the doctor this morning. Words do not express how fucking glad I am. And hey, speaking of people who live in Tower, I have a new conspiracy ready in case of emergency. If Casey disappears into Julia's room again, it turns out a girl I went to high school with lives right down the hall from Julia, so if I need an update on what's happening on that floor, I have a hook up. I'm elevating gossip to a fine art. I know the Bible says all kinds of stuff about gossip being wrong, and religion aside, I know gossip is ethically wrong, but I can't resist. I know this sounds nuts, but I think I could give up sex before gossip. Wow, I'm scum.

In other news, I was looking out my window and I noticed that there are four cars in the parking lot that are over the white lines. Yes, mine is one of them, but I guess it's goood to know that no one else here can park either. And hey, speaking of gossip AND my apartment complex, I haven't heard my downstairs neighbors fight in at least a week. How wonderful and strange. Everyone I know has relationship problems- the last thing I need is to be thinking about the problems of this couple I don't even know. That's what's so funny. I've lived here 6 months and never really spoken to this pair, and yet I know that he drinks and thinks she's fat and she's insecure and yells a lot. I know more of their dirty laundry than any stranger should.

Right now I am listening to: A mix CD of stuff my sister downloaded. Ramones, Billy Idol, Green Day, Rancid, etc. I listen to it and feel like I'm in my sister's head. She pursues punk in a way that only an 18-year-old can. She isn't jaded by it's billion-and-five reincatnation/dillutions yet. It's so funny- my moniker (e-mail and blog) is ourladyofpunk, but I intend that as an ironic religious notion. I love the idea of a holy Virgin who can be prayed to in the event of an infected saftey-pin piercing. I am, to be quite frank, not very "punk." Sorry to disapoint. I may have pink hair, but when you get right down to it I'm not that radical. If you must catagorize me I'm a bit on the goth side, but I hate "the scene" and I hate 99% of my co-countercultureists-in-eyeliner.

2005-02-02 - 7:48 a.m.

webblog working

Kick ASS! It works! Now all of ya'll who bemoaned how hard it was to wade through my diary with the back and forth clickies will be relieved- tons of Emma all on one page. My older entries are still in a one-to-a-page format, but deal with it. I'm just proud of all I've done with my little diary in the last few days. Go me!

2005-02-02 - 7:47 a.m.

-

okay, I'm trying to get this wweblog-style thing up and running.

2005-02-02 - 6:16 a.m.

infallible sex advice

Just read someone else's diary- like the silly girl I am. I'm on a goth Diaryring so sometimes I just like to hit random and see what I come up with. This time it was a very fresh entry by some other depressive type who's also awake at 6 a.m. on a Wednesday. Of course, as is inevitable when I read writings by self acknowledged goths I'm like- "damn, that's as depressing as the old me."

Haha- the old me. Me and the old me have many enlightening converations these days. I usually tell her that she was always a melodramatic fuck, to which she replies that it's a little late for that now- not like she can change all the dumb shit she did in retrospect.

And speaking of retrospecitive dumb shit while making a slight topic shift, I am grateful for my literary mother. When Ellen and I were little she would whisper memorized T.S. Elliot to us as we fell asleep. I was so young I didn't pick up on the existential despair- just the rhythm and images. I always had dreams about drinking tea and twisting lilac stalks. But that's a slight digression. The point is that to this day my mother reads ravenously. On the phone this weekend she asked me a qusetion. She had been reading a lot of recent fiction by women and said that every single one of them featured a traumatic first sexual encounter- either happening within the frame of the story or as a flashback. My mom aksed me if I found this to be true in current novels as well, espicially ones by men. I thought about it and remembered things in "Survivor," "Kaspian Lost," "Flyboy..." and the handful of others I've read. I told her that it seems that regaurdless of gender, recounting a less-than-stellar or at least awkward first time seems to be popular.

Mom wondered aloud why the hell that would be. I remarked that it was probably first a rebelllion against the mainstream where every sexual encounter is glamourized/glorified beyond all reason. Second, it's an attempt to be in sync with the mainstream but push it a little, like "you think you can shock? No, I can SHOCK... and traumatize" And finally, I see it as art imitating life.

Mom was a bit surprised to hear this. I elaborated (sparing her the details) how bad many of my friend's early enccounters were. I would have added an autobiograpphical elemment as well, but as liberal as my mom is, she's still my mom. I don't want to think about her having sex, she doesn't want to think about me having sex, and that's just how it is.

Anyway, I was in turn shocked that she was shocked. I knew she had some wildness in her youth and I know she picked up herpes somewhere. But aparently she has no regrets about her youthful indiscretiions. Ha- lord knows I still feel like a jackass whenever I remember getting drunk and freaky in the bed of someone's pickup truck. *shudder* Hell, a friend of mine had a relatively uncomfomfortable loss of virginity less than 48 hours ago! Another one had unpleasant and meaningless sex (an hour of humping a girl who just lay there like she didn't care until he finally gave up) about 24 hours before that. It wasn't his first, but it wasn't fun either.

As the conversation with my mom wrapped up she asked if when I write I incorporate this youthful universal. I thought about it and realized that I never had. Lord knows people have sex in that half-finished novel of mine, but there's nothing too unduly traumatic in that. I prefer the trauma to come from elsewhere, but maybe that's just me.

So that's my sex-babble. To finish up here is my infallible Dr. Ruth-like advice:
1. One night stands are not fun. Maybe that's the sorta Catholic in me talking, but I say avoid them at all costs
2. Always use protection. There is no unsexier thought in the univese than "god I hope I don't get pregnant." And that's the non-catholic in me talking. I think we should all be on birth control, but whatever
3. Do it for love. If you don't love the one you're with, it's no fun. I'd rather have my hand than a stranger. In the words (paraphrased) of Woody Allen "don't knock masturbation- it's sex with someone I love."
4. Feel free to boss the guy around. Nothing is worse than him having no clue and you letting him continue to have no clue

So why should you listen to me? I'm older, wiser, and had great sex last night. So there.

The last thing I wrote before this thing. The next thing I wrote after this.