My Life Gets a Little Worse, One Day at a Time

I want to start crying.

Today has been horrible; it's 11:00 a.m.

I've locked myself out of the house, I almost broke the scale when I stepped on it, and I have no checks and rent is due today.

This is so, so horrible.

And no job after next Friday!!!!

Thank You for Being a Friendster

Travel down the road and back again. Your heart is true, you're a pal and a confidant. And if you threw a party (invited everyone you ever knew!) you would see the biggest gift would be and the card attached woud say, "thank you for being a friend(ster)!"

Thank you all 55 friendsters, for providing me testimonials, reinforcing AA's definition of "alcoholic." And thank you for finding ways to link me 356,232,012 ways to my 23,048 ex -boyfriends; -makeoutfriends (mostly makeoutfriends).

A special friendster thank you to all the tattooed freaks who email me randomly to tell me I'm hot.

Thank you!!

Farts: The Silent Killer

Someone farted next to me on the PATH train. Maybe if i were 13 and a boy, I would have laughed, but for some reason, I found this to be disgusting! Maybe it was because it addition to the gastric odeur, if you will, I was also forced to sniff the 'pit of a fellow straphanger.

Farting is a natural part of life: everyone does it. Even like, I don't know--pick someone randomly--J. Lo, let's say--and I should have accepted the fact that one's body was simply releasing, letting loose, freeing, emancipating gastro-discomfort--but really, this was olfactory overload.

Really, it was.

I also just realized that in addition to being a farting hata, I also prefer the company of Pringles versus a square-balanced-meal.

I wonder if this artificial sour-cream-and-onion-only-diet will make me fart!

Do Not Contact Database

I think that the indie-rock world is going to set up a database of fans/crazies that indicate that one should not contact them. And the first one to sign up will probably be Ben Gibbard (please see http://www.threeimaginarygirls.com/bengibbardhatesme.asp). The second will be Ted Leo cuz I just sent him an email telling him his music is thigh slappin' good!
-------------------------------------------------
Patricia O'Cone

info@tedleo.com

Subject :
Strange Occurrence @ Siren

Date :
Sun, 27 Jul 2003 12:03:23 -0400

Hello.

I wanted to let you all know that at last week's siren festival, the strangest thing happened--as the set started and everyone started dancing (as much "dancing" as can be done on a hot blacktop, where the kids are situated shoulder-to-shoulder), I felt this weirdest sensation--down "there!"

And that sensation, was the feeling of my skirt-swaddled-thighs slapping together!! I had no idea that they could do that! And it was your music that made it happen! I don't think I'm a heavy girl by any means, but it made me question whether or not I needed to eat those extra french fries!!!

I think that you should subtitle your music as "Thigh Slapping Good!"

.. . . also, your music could be considered the answer to the oft-pondered Buddhist koan, "What is the sound two thighs slapping?"

That's right, it's Ted Leo and the Pharmacists.

Cheers!

Trix
this. is not a quote.
--------------------

Incidentially, my thighs are now sticking together because I'm sitting on Lucy (the name of the chair, pervert!). It's made out of vinyl.

Oh MY God!

There are about twelve-BILLION people outside my window. I think it's a parade, but I can't possibly understand why it is so LOUD. Luckily, I'm in a bad mood and find that unlike most people, I don't love parades. I hate them!

This is just like that Seinfeld episode where they are accosted by the Puerto Rican day parade! It's just like that, only I can't leave my house! Oh my God!

I want to take a nap! Oh My God, what am I going to do??? Where am I going to go? I am in parade exile!!!!! In my own house!!!!

Make the man with the blow-horn shut his trap, please!!!!!!

This is even worse than those guys at Union Square Park during Christmas. They blow into these long pipes! I hate those guys a lot, so you can imagine how hellish I find this experience!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

This is worse than the wedding where I went to, where they played the electric slide, TWICE!

Please Don't Call Me at 6:30 a.m.

Someone called me at 6:30 a.m. today. I tried to star69 them, but you know, that didn't work. I don't knoow who it could have been.

I have to be honest, ever since that "wake up call" about a week and a half ago, I thought it was her.

And if it turns out it was my fucking mother, I'll kill her!!!

And then!!!! Two telemarketers called one after another!! At 10 a.m.! When I told them that the two people who they were looking for were not available, they asked me if they could speak my our HUSBANDS.

Am I in the demographic where they would ask to speak to husbands???

I cannot WAIT until the "Do Not Call" database goes up.

Really.

And another thing--I never give my number out--to ANYONE--even if they are buying me drinks and attempting to makeout with me. EVEN THEN. So why would I take a phone call from some person, sitting in the midwest, in a little cubicle with one of those headsets on.

Now I feel depressed. Maybe I should take their phone calls. Because what if Telemarketing is like, my only career choice?

I am going to lie down now.

Your Job is Better Than my Job (say it!)

You've got a normal boss and benefits (say it!)

. . . And we're all going straight to hell!!!!

So I suspect that she's trying to screw me over--in an attempt to one up me on this quitting thing, I think she will try to get me out of working one week earlier, just to you know, pay me back, or something for my bad attitude.

I just want a normal job. Really. With Benefits.

I QUIT LAST WEEK

And no, I'm not staying the extra week because you're going to be busy. "Busy" entertaining your son, daughter-in-law and grandchild. I have things that I'd like to do too. I'd also like to see the beach and my mother! I've already stayed an extra week because you told me you had a VERY important visitor, visiting your house in Long Island, the wonderful house that has been photographed many, many times, including the photoshoot that I arranged for you for; afterward you bitched and complained that they overstayed their welcome and then you made me call them several times and demand more money from them, and I'm sure that they wished that they never shot at your house because then they wouldn't have to deal with you harassing them over one-and-a-half hours. Then when they politely suggested that you duke it out with them, you never followed up. So back to JohnMalkovich, who has also been photographed many, many times! I think that you only mentioned him once or twice today, which relieved me b/c the sound of your voice saying his name sounds akin to a metal rake scraping over rocks, and I think that it was only John's presence in your beautiful, photographed house that made you not yell at me.

Thanks John, ye never knew me.

My last day is the 8th. I am counting the days, and I pity the fool.

The Zip Situation

So I have this crap-ass iMac (c. 1999!) that I work on and I had to transfer files to a Sony Vaio. Although I am a product of crossing ethnic lines, and am fairly normal, this does not translate to the computer world. I guess because computers aren't sexy like my parents were, who knows?

The intern was trying for days to figure this one out. She couldn't get the Zip disk to READ anything other than on the hard drive of this iMac. She even went to Kinkos and spent MONEY on a computer just to get some images. It didn't work.

So today, I'm talking to designknob and he tells me to whip out the hotspot or something like that, which does nothing. We restart the computer. Nothing. Restart holding the mouse down. Nada. Then I get the brilliant idea to--ohMyGod!--penetrate the computer with the cord DIRECTLY. it works, sort of.

But it's full of jism or something and we have to UnZip it and erase some dirty-old-files and re-apply the hymen to the drive.

And now it works.

Computers can be sexy sometimes.

John Malkovich WUZ HERE.

okay.

i'm reflecting on today's haps.

i can't believe that she didn't tell me about the potential carbon monoxide poisoning, but did mention john malkovitch like a billion times! it changes from "john malkovich" to "malkovich" to "john," but usually, it's johnmalkovich. the only reason that i even know who john malkovich is--is because of that spike jonze movie, "being john malkovitch." a movie that came out a few YEARS ago, that I JUST SAW FOR THE FIRST TIME.

LAST MONTH.

this means that i don't care about malkovich.

is this post starting to resemble that scene in BJM, where he finds his own personal version of hell, and it's ugly men who say one word over and over again (hint: malkovich)?????

welcome to my world of personal assisting. it's just as ugly as that.

Lord Jesus, I'm Alive!

didn't die of monoxide poisoning. score one for me!

CO wuz Here!

There was a situation here, involving carbon monoxide. I was never told.

As stated below, it's raining. I had to pick up a sample of limestone for the boss -- about 10 blocks north and 2 blocks west from where we are now. Approximately 1 mile, I'd gather. Turns out the sample weighs about two tons, and I have to walk back another mile back to the "office," and I can't use an umbrella b/c the "sample" is so heavy that I need both hands to carry it. So I'm getting wet, and the weight of the block is causing my arms to shake, and still I have to walk through the UES carrying my brick-baby. Couple the exertion with the humidity and you get a frothing-at-the-back racehorse/slave/stepnfetch/girl/friday.

All of the denizens looked at me like I was crazy!

Now I have to bring the brick-baby to Penn Station!

I had to water the garden today. Backyard and window boxes. Once, when I did the backyard, on a sultry Upper East Side morning, the hose pulled a broken, iron chair over and it clocked me on my chin! I cried and then "the boss" (not bruce) called. A few minutes later, she checked up on me said she hoped that it wasn't too bad and then asked me to make her lunch reservation ASAP since the place she chose filled up quickly. I had a fat chin and scratches.

It's raining.

obnoxious thing said to me at work:

"i haven't done that, no--i just haven't had the time, i'm entertaining john malkovich and his kids! and kerry kennedy-cuomo is here, it's been such a zoo!"

i hate my life.