I refuse to quote John Mayer....even though I don't have as much problem with him as most of you

2006-08-15 / 8:09 p.m.

In the spirit of making some new friends, and soaking up the last of the college experience, I finally made my decision to buy football tickets. Over the course of the day, my excitement about going to an actual UGA game steadily increased. Football! Beer! The company of my peers! When I got home today, I went to go register for my tickies�.and I had missed the deadline. By three hours. Yup�Deadline was noon today, I didn�t try until three. Sonofabitch. Maybe I�ll be able to snag one during undergrad registration�.though I doubt it. Fu_k.

I think I might be having a quarter-life crisis. I�ve having an urge to do all kinds of atypical (for me) things, that would probably end in disaster. Example: I am hell-bent on going to an open-mic stand up comedy night. Or �nite� if you will. Am I funny? No, not really. Would this go well? Doubtful. But I still want to do it.

I regret not having more of a college experience. There we go, I said it. Add it to my list of lame regrets. I�m old, and I have to have a real job soon, and I don�t have any friends. I�ve got to find some friends�even if they�re just lets-go-out-drinking-and-maybe-study-for-midterms-together-but-we-won�t-stay-in-touch-once-the-semester-is-over kind of friends.

SNAKES ON A PLANE comes out this weekend. I want to be there!

In closing, if charter communication leaves one more obnoxiously loud, automated voicemail on my cell phone telling me of the exciting arrival of their phone service, I�m going to go on a killing spree.

Why must you make me look at unpleasant things when there are so many delightful ones to see?

2006-08-09 / 4:36 p.m.

Hello? Hellllloo?Suddenly a thundering voice reverberated throughout the great hall: 'WWEEE ARRE HHERRE!'. Srously, does anyone still read this? If so, you�re in for a tour de force of post-summer writing action!

Yes, that means my job is done with. I�m going to have to stop spending money on, well, everything. Asinine purchases of the summer that I can�t bring myself to regret:

* 10 (going on 11) episodes of season two of Lost. Stupid ABC has been spotty about playing the re-runs, and the show is so fucking addictive. It goes the same way everytime�About halfway through the episode I�m watching on my computer, I say to myself, "This should tide me over until I�m at the same point as the re-runs on television" �.and then four seconds before the closing credits, they deliver the big WTF moment, and I know I�ll be forking out another $1.99 to see what happens next. Bastards.
* Super Troopers and Mean Girls on DVD. A bunch of used CDs�mostly disappointing
* An adorable floor lamp designed for a little girl�s room that I frickin� fell in love with. Too bad it�s about a foot shorter than a normal, grown-up person�s lamp.
*This kickass shirt.

I think my cat might be a racist. She was sitting on the chairback looking out the window, and she suddenly stiffens up and lets out this nasty little growl. I got up to look out the window to see what she was freaking out about, and all that I saw was a black man and his little boy. I sat her down and had a long talk about not judging people by the color of their skin. She didn�t seem to be listening. Her skin is at least three different colors.

Perhaps because autumn fills me with dread of the indomitable misery winter causes me, but I am singularly focused on squeezing every bit of summer out of this week before I go back to school. So far, I�ve done a poor job. With three loads of laundry left to go, I�ve cleaned the apartment and scheduled a doctor and a dentist appointment for next week. FUN FUN FUN. Most important is going to the pool. On a weekday. Early. Before the nasty children, rowdy teenagers, and douchebaggy 20- and 30-somethings show up. Before it�s unbearably humid. I went by myself yesterday�it was fun for awhile, but I really need someone to play with. SWF seeks fun-loving male to splash, dunk and toss her in pool. Carrying her on shoulders is a plus. Contact your local Roger and demand that he come and take me to the swimming pool no later than 10:30 tomorrow morning! Your vote makes a difference. Except not really. ROGER, PLEASE COME AND SWIM WITH ME TOMORROW MORNING!

I think it�s important to know that yesterday was my web-journal-blogs-online thingie�s fifth birthday! Cheers! At least the writing didn�t get any worse.

My hair needs to be dyed. I wish I could justify spending the money to get it done professionally, but I guess I shouldn't. I worry I should just stop dying my hair forever, as I'm pretty convinced by the stuff I read telling me that hairdye gives me cancer. The fact is, aside from the increasing number of grays I'm cultivating, my hair is more wiry and coarse since I stopped dying it before. I have some strands that curl up tightly like telephone cords and won't behave.
This journal may cause cancer.

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Constable Whiskers

2006-07-05 / 8:52 p.m.

This happens every summer, doesn�t it? This off-season lull in the journal. I doubt it�s even been worse than this, but that�s the way the dream cookie crumbles. There will be more entries in about one month when I leave work and go back to skool. Probably more entries in the coming weeks too--now that I have a better wireless card.

Work�s gravy by the way. It gets better every day, probably because I have more stuff to do, and don�t really have time to get bored. Frustrated maybe, not bored. Next week is the oft mentioned glamorous whirlwind tour of the fabulous midwest! There will be CORN and SOYBEANS. Sadly, we aren�t going to seeThe Corn Palace or The World�s Largest Cheetoh. Provided that none of the hotels we�re staying in have bedbugs and that my cat lives through the week, it should be an enjoyable work week in the Midwest.

I saw the best thing yesterday. There�s a cute orange cat in my neighborhood whose owners let him play outside on a dog run. The cat has a harness on, and the leash is tied to a stake in the yard. He can wander as far as the sidewalk, has a shady spot, and seems very happy. He is also afraid of nothing, and let me rub his belly.

I bought tickets to go see Guster. It�s going to be awesome. I�m taking Roger.

Yesterday, I celebrated America�s birthday by blowing a hole in a TidyCat Litter bucket (filled with water) using a bottle rocket. Good times, good times.

There�s not much else. Um, nope. Not much else. Don�t eat yellow snow.

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it's a stream of something, that's for sure

2006-06-18 / 10:17 p.m.

Like Roger, I�m feeling paranoid as of late. Thinking of passwording this. Is this silly? Probably. I�m not sure

Anyway�.not doing much except working and hanging out with Roger on the weekends. It�s a simple existence, but a nice one generally. I�m not going to say anything specific about my job�.since it would be suicide if those deciding my employment fate put two and two together and connected me with this vulgar little rag�but, um, I heart my job. I traveled to DC for work last week, and it was super cool. The city (at least the little I saw of it) was neat. I stayed in the nicest hotel room I�ve ever seen up close. My only regret is not ordering room service. If I manage to get a job here, the next time I travel, I�m using some of my per diem allotment for room service. Something absurd too�like a gin and tonic and tiramisu for dinner. I�m also going to take my gym clothes, so I don�t feel sloggy about eating room service in bed. Work-wise, it was good too. I really felt like I participated, rather than just sitting internishly and taking notes. Rad, totally rad. I really want to work there.

You know, I�m just going to say it. The newer episodes of Family Guy just aren�t that good. They�re not funny, or clever, or timely�they�re just dumb. Sorry, guys.

Guster album Tuesday. I hope it�s good, because I�ve been listening to too much sold-out-indie-pop for my own good. Does anyone still read this? Once I post something cute or funny, I�ll have Roger give me a nice plug on his journal�that should add at least, I don�t know, about two readers total.

A couple of weeks ago, I was under the assumption that I had this one stubborn gray hair�one little follicle that continued to produce a wiry silver hair. When I saw it, I�d pluck it. It was traumatic at first, but what�s one gray hair? Since, I�ve come to realize that I actually have about a thousand lurking just underneath the top layer of hair. Who in the hell goes gray at 23?!

Roger and I went to the shelter this afternoon to visit kittens. He named four �Ninja� and one �Dragon.� The kitties were all tiny and cute. Baby cats are superior to baby humans, hands down.

Okay. I could provide more journal vittles, but I have to get up in, like, seven hours and fifteen minutes. Unngh. I need to make a less insane schedule.

Love,
Emily

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