Monday, September 25, 2006

Dear Diary,

I am not happy today for the following reasons:

1. I got in a fight with the treasurer on the board of the student group I am president of. She was kind of mean. And wrong. So I was really mean back.

2. I have really bad cramps

3. My back really hurts, and chiropractors are stupid, and I feel ripped off.

4. I talked to not 1, not 2, not 3, but 4 of my exes yesterday. 2 in person, and 2 called me. But all 4 of them seem happier now than when they were with me.

5. It's getting darker earlier now. And I've started to really hate the dark.

6. The news lately is grimmer than usual. At least it seems grimmer.

That's all. Oh, and no one believes in me. Waaaawaaaaaawaaaa

Oh, and I actually saw a homeless woman fingering herself on the train tonight. it was pretty gross.

Saturday, September 23, 2006

question

is God smart? seriously. do religious people consider God to be smart? I'm not being sarcastic or snarky or whatever. I just want to know.

Sunday, September 17, 2006

Shoes and the Law Part II and Sadness

So the other day, I'm at work. It's a particularly good day. I'm feeling pretty good about myself. I got the most amazing letters of recommendattion from the Assistant State's Attorney's who I work for. I got a lot done. I felt very accomplished all in all. And I felt kind of cool. And like I belonged there. Very comfortable. As I walk to my car at the end of the day, I admit it, I was strutting a little. Until I stepped in my car and realized I was wearing two different shoes. One brown and one black. That's really all I can say about that.

On my way home, I stop at the market to get something for dinner. I go up to the guy at the butcher counter, and ask for a filet mignon. The butcher sort of looks at me like he wants to flirt a little. Which I am not opposed to. It's totally fine. Harmless. He asks me which one I wanted. I tell him a small one because it's just for me. His facial expression changed. And before he could stop himself, he said "Awww. That's so......sad" EXCUSE ME? SAD?

I didn't know quite what to say. Was it sad? Or did he mean I am sad, like as in pathetic? I said something like "Yeah... well... long day, mumble mumble mumble" and hoped the discussion would be over with Mr. Meat. But he continues by introducing himself to me and offering to COME OVER AFTER HIS SHIFT TO SHARE THE FILET WITH ME!!! I am totally not kidding. And neither was he. I look at him with the most withering, demeaning, "I-am-so-much-better-than-you" stare I could possibly muster up, and said to him "what's SAD is that you think you're good enough to even TALK to me" and I grabbed my filet and left. Yes, it was a mean thing to say. But screw it!
So a girl is only entitled to eat filet mignon when she has a significant other to share it with? The rest of us just have to eat ground llama? Fuck you, Meat Guy.

Then I went home, and made my filet, and ate it, more aware than ever of the fact that I was eating it alone.

Saturday, September 02, 2006

I met a future serial killer (and his mother)


So I heard this weird fact on Dr. Phil. And I think it's probably true. Because A. Dr. PHIL said it, B. I also think I read it somewhere else, and C. It makes complete sense. Here's the fact:

There was a research study done, and one of the characteristics that all (or almost all) serial killers have in common is they would abuse animals as children.

So I'm walking my adorable dog. (See above) And about a block away from me there was a mother and her three year old-ish son. Since the kid isn't in a stroller I decide to slow down my pace, just in case the kid gets afraid of dogs. That's the nice thing to do. The dog is sniffing around, keeping to herself, staring at squirrels, whatever. All of a sudden the child starts running towards me with a stick in his hand. A long and fairly thick stick. I don't do anything. Just move to the side so he could run by. But he doesn't. He stops in front of MY SWEET DOG AND WHACKS HER WITH THE STICK! And you know that horrible sound that dogs make when they're startled and hurt at the same time? Like if you accidentally step on one of their paws. If you've ever heard the sound, you're not likely to forget it. And MY DOG MAKES THAT SOUND.
Keep in mind, if this was an adult who did this, I would have slapped him or her. And I don't hit people. Ever. But you can't slap a child. And even if you could, you could only slap your OWN child. Trust me, though, I wanted to. Instead I said in a very sweet and soft voice "Sweetie, this is my dog. She loves when people pet her, and I bet she'd love it if you petted her. But she gets scared when people hit her and it hurts animals when they get hit. Just like it hurts people."

And the kid looks at me with these big, wide, adorable child eyes. And he smiled at me. AND THEN HE HIT MY DOG WITH THE STICK AGAIN!!!

I was completely stunned. I look down the street as his mother slowly approaches us. If I were the mother, I would have been mortified. She doesn't seem to be in much of a rush to remedy the situation. So, I take the dog, and step away from the kid and keep my dog on the other side of me, and wait for the mother to say something to me. And when she finally gets within speaking distance I said to her with a smile "Your son keeps on hitting my dog with a stick." I figured at this point she'd do something. Apologize. Yell at the kid. Tell him why hitting dogs is naughty. Anything. No. This is what happened: She looked at me with a glare and said "exCUSE us" and walked right past me.

At that point, I wanted to grab the stick away from the kid, and beat the mom with it. But no. I just stood there. And I didn't stick up for myself. Or my dog. It's a good thing dogs have short memories. People should have the same luxury.