so this person. they're calling from an 800 number. they've called my house twice in ten minutes and i'm wondering what all the fuss is about. i haven't the faintest fucking idea who they could be, which is probably the only reason i'm not answering the phone. if it's that important, why not leave a message? perhaps they're a telemarketer, and, knowing that leaving a message would give them about a snowball's chance in hell of being called back, then they merely give up and forget that my caller ID will have logged them as calling more than once. what desperate turds.
i am currently reclining in my nightgown, pondering the existence of this much fat on my thighs, because most of my wearable clothes are being packed (although i will saunter out later to walk the dogs in my gym shorts and lime-green tank top, sans brassiere.) SG's eli recently did a photoset with another girl on the montral metro, the same one i rode time and again getting to all sorts of...
god dammit, there's that number again. be right back.
turns out it's the blockbuster automated system. i wonder, what happens if the person they're dialling isn't home, and they happen to have caller ID, and come home to find 54 missed calls from the same number? i am unsure about you, but i'd be bothered. it'd make me not want to turn my movie in.
the movie in question, i believe, is "cheech and chong: things are hard all over". not as good as "up in smoke" but it had its moments.
anyway, back to the metro. for those of you who have been like me, and forever lived in an area without a metro, you have missed out. i've never been on one in the united states, but i adored the one in montral, for a reason even i can't figure out. but it was a very clean and enchanting metro, and there's just such an aura of young-beautiful-struggling-student about it. its only downside is that it was 2,50$ per ticket, or 6 tickets for 10$. they offered metro passes for 50$ per month, which i would have purchased, had i not at the moment of debate met a person who was quite content to haul me around in his car. a lucky bit on my part. here's to gabriel.
so tomorrow's my flight. i love flying, or at least, i detest it less than any other form of travel. i'm a very impatient person, and the longest time it has taken me to travel anywhere was three days, on a greyhound bus, from phoenix to canada. i received less than eight hours of sleep the entire trip, arrived greasy, frazzled and worst of all, utterly bored. i slept eight hours once i arrived at the place of the chinese couple i was staying for the summer (i had rented a room in their home.) then, i was awakened by an incessant ringing of the doorbell; after ignoring it for about five minutes i went to see who was so persistant. it turned out to be the couple's daughter, who was about 7. she regarded me indifferently as i unlocked the door, dishevelled american that i was. "o sont tes parents?" i asked her. "je ne sais pas," she replied. it was the first french i ever spoke in montral.
the fates are set against rex and i. his car broke down yesterday- the old turbodiesel, mercedes' version of a station wagon. lord knows what's wrong with it. i asked a few stupid questions in my i'm-imposing-on-your-troubles-even-though-i-haven't-got-the-faintest-fucking-idea-what-they're-about sort of way. so who knows if he can come to montana. i sure hope so, considering that, sorry mom, that's basically the only reason i'm going. oh well. if mohammed does not go to the mountain, the mountain is going to buy a bus ticket to seattle. i just hope my funds will be adequate.
i bought another silverchair CD yesterday, as well as checked out at the library a bunch, among them the gotan project, queens of the stone age, and of course nine inch nails' 'with teeth', all of which i am promptly going to copy and then cackle gleefully at having free music.
had sex with thomy again yesterday, protected with VCF this time, which reminds me i have a whole lot of photos of him i need to fuck with.
hurrah for photography. hurrah for everything, really.
my breath stinks. it reminds me of a line i wrote once: "if my breath could solidify, a dog wouldn't eat it for breakfast." i love it when disastrous situations such as this are easily changeable. me, a control freak? go eat a potato.
i am currently reclining in my nightgown, pondering the existence of this much fat on my thighs, because most of my wearable clothes are being packed (although i will saunter out later to walk the dogs in my gym shorts and lime-green tank top, sans brassiere.) SG's eli recently did a photoset with another girl on the montral metro, the same one i rode time and again getting to all sorts of...
god dammit, there's that number again. be right back.
turns out it's the blockbuster automated system. i wonder, what happens if the person they're dialling isn't home, and they happen to have caller ID, and come home to find 54 missed calls from the same number? i am unsure about you, but i'd be bothered. it'd make me not want to turn my movie in.
the movie in question, i believe, is "cheech and chong: things are hard all over". not as good as "up in smoke" but it had its moments.
anyway, back to the metro. for those of you who have been like me, and forever lived in an area without a metro, you have missed out. i've never been on one in the united states, but i adored the one in montral, for a reason even i can't figure out. but it was a very clean and enchanting metro, and there's just such an aura of young-beautiful-struggling-student about it. its only downside is that it was 2,50$ per ticket, or 6 tickets for 10$. they offered metro passes for 50$ per month, which i would have purchased, had i not at the moment of debate met a person who was quite content to haul me around in his car. a lucky bit on my part. here's to gabriel.
so tomorrow's my flight. i love flying, or at least, i detest it less than any other form of travel. i'm a very impatient person, and the longest time it has taken me to travel anywhere was three days, on a greyhound bus, from phoenix to canada. i received less than eight hours of sleep the entire trip, arrived greasy, frazzled and worst of all, utterly bored. i slept eight hours once i arrived at the place of the chinese couple i was staying for the summer (i had rented a room in their home.) then, i was awakened by an incessant ringing of the doorbell; after ignoring it for about five minutes i went to see who was so persistant. it turned out to be the couple's daughter, who was about 7. she regarded me indifferently as i unlocked the door, dishevelled american that i was. "o sont tes parents?" i asked her. "je ne sais pas," she replied. it was the first french i ever spoke in montral.
the fates are set against rex and i. his car broke down yesterday- the old turbodiesel, mercedes' version of a station wagon. lord knows what's wrong with it. i asked a few stupid questions in my i'm-imposing-on-your-troubles-even-though-i-haven't-got-the-faintest-fucking-idea-what-they're-about sort of way. so who knows if he can come to montana. i sure hope so, considering that, sorry mom, that's basically the only reason i'm going. oh well. if mohammed does not go to the mountain, the mountain is going to buy a bus ticket to seattle. i just hope my funds will be adequate.
i bought another silverchair CD yesterday, as well as checked out at the library a bunch, among them the gotan project, queens of the stone age, and of course nine inch nails' 'with teeth', all of which i am promptly going to copy and then cackle gleefully at having free music.
had sex with thomy again yesterday, protected with VCF this time, which reminds me i have a whole lot of photos of him i need to fuck with.
hurrah for photography. hurrah for everything, really.
my breath stinks. it reminds me of a line i wrote once: "if my breath could solidify, a dog wouldn't eat it for breakfast." i love it when disastrous situations such as this are easily changeable. me, a control freak? go eat a potato.
onie:
yeah.. i plan on piercing them.. thanks
gagefreedom:
Heh.... reading your daily journal makes my life seem boring 