I'm going to take the Fung Wah
Bus and everything. I've recently been informed that a Chinatown bus
(not necessarily the Fung Wah Bus, but they're all the same anyway)
went up in flames somewhere en route to New York from Boston last
week. I don't have the full scoop but I really couldn't care any less
than I already do. That bus could be sitting idle at the stop at
South Station completely engulfed in flames and I would put my big,
red duffle bag in the underside compartment, cover my face to avoid
the flames, and walk onto that bus.
I'm a daredevil like that. Also, I want out, people. I want out of
this joint, if only for a weekend.
I'm getting sick of being negative! It's spring! Spring is in the
air! Spring is all around us! If I I just ignore the light snow that
Mama Nature is threatening us with late this week, then spring is
here! Perfect timing, too. I'm so over winter. Winter is
so last season. Though typically a fan of snow, I'm ready
for the warmer weather. I'm ready for less layers and more skin. I'm
ready for new life - new life for myself and for everything around me.
I'm also ready to drive a nail through my very own skull, but that
want should subside when I leave this office in one and one-half
hours.
I�m a camel and I carry straw on my back. I have a very strong back, as do most pack animals. I can withstand quite a heavy load. Today, though? I think my back was broken today.
I�m not sure which straw it was exactly. I can�t decide which straw it was that broke my back.
A large part of me thinks it�s the straw where she actually had the audacity to think that we were dressed alike this morning. Call me whatever you�d like. A snob. Whatever. I don�t care. But give me a little credit. Besides the fact that the only real likeness we shared today started and stopped with light khaki pants, we�re talking about a woman wearing a shirt-under-sweater combo (you know, the ones were the collared shirt is sewn into the sweater?) from the Wal-mart clearance rack. Now, I�m not saying that everyone should spend as much on clothes as I do. In fact, I can admit that I spend too much on clothes. But PLEASE. Please spare me.
The more I think about it, though, it wasn�t that straw. I think it was the straw where she incessantly talks about her delinquent daughter as though she�s Jesus Christ sent down from Heaven above to bless us all. The only thing worse than being around a snot-nosed little puke is having to listen to a mother talk about her snot-nosed little puke.
She brought her daughter into the office again on Saturday. Every time the girl opened her mouth her mother would say �Did you hear her!?� or �Isn�t she fantastic!? Did you hear that!?� as if the girl had just stood up and recited Ovid�s Metamorphoses from memory when, in reality, she had just begged her mother for some South Park DVD. I wanted to turn around and shout �OF COURSE I FUCKING HEARD HER. HER MOUTH IS ALMOST AS BIG AS YOURS. ALMOST. GIVE HER TIME, SHE�S STILL YOUNG.�
I�ve been civil all along. I�ve been more than pleasant. Naturally, I�m not going to do anything that could get me into any trouble, but I just don�t have it in me anymore. I don�t have the strength to pretend like I give a crap about what she has to say. Just because she sits directly behind me doesn�t mean we have to be friends, right? As long as I�m polite I�m not doing anything wrong, right? Perhaps if she weren�t such a psycho I�d be a little more certain.
My poor, aching back.
Posted by Taylor on March 21, 2005 @ 10:32 pmI'm not an activist, by any stretch of the imagination. I'm proud of who I am, but have no interest in "gay pride." I'm proud of my accomplishments and I just don't see my sexuality as an accomplishment. It's nothing that I have to strive for or work towards. It just is.
That said, can I just say that I can be such a homo sometimes?
Take last night, for instance. After watching Jake in Progress (related story coming up), I flipped over to CSI only to find that CSI was not on. After a few minutes of surfing I stumbled across some show on The Discovery Channel about pregnancy. Always hungry for knowledge, I thought I'd settle in and learn about how babies are made! Additionally, a girl in my office just had a baby so I thought this might arm me with some impressive factoids with which I could dazzle and impress my co-workers! I was psyched! I was ready! I was going to learn!
And then a commercial came on, I flipped over a couple channels just to pass the time, saw that the Men's Figure Skating World Championships was on, and never looked back.
Miracle of life? Eh. Men in sequined vests and tights swishing around the ice to Singin' in the Rain? Sign. Me. Up.
In equally as gay news, I was having a very normal morning, just reading some entertainment news from cnn.com, when I clicked on an article about John Stamos' new show, Jake in Progress. Now, this is a quality show. I watched the previews last Sunday and then the two new episodes last night. Good show. Not my point here. My point is that, in the middle of the article, John Stamos says:
"I never thought I'd be single at 41, never in a million years. It's for the best, and it's exciting. But a lot of it's depressing."
And then I start crying like a stupid, ugly baby. I cried like a stupid, ugly baby right at my desk in my office. I didn't mind revealing to the girls in my office why I was crying, but when the homeless man that I lost last weekend came in I had to play it off like I was crying from laughing.
I must be channeling some of Mother's crazy, menopausal mood swings or some other such nonsense.
Posted by Taylor on March 18, 2005 @ 12:42 pmif loud mouth behind me doesn't stop talking about how "fantastic" her bathroom looks in lavender and mint green I'm going puke up my lunch, re-eat it, then puke it back up again.
Posted by Taylor on March 16, 2005 @ 11:39 amI bit open a packet of duck sauce and sucked it dry. I don't have any packets of duck sauce left, but I have soy sauce and grape jelly and I'm not quite hungry enough yet to eat either of those but I can't make any promises about what might happen in one hour's time.
The Boss Lady left the office for the day early this morning. Her kitty had surgery yesterday and needs tending to. Now, I love animals. I'd typically do more for an animal than I would for a person. But what about meeeee? She left me all alone in this office with two complete nut bags!
The woman behind me? Her voice is like a drill in my ear. A big, nasty, whiney, foul-mouthed, grammatically incorrect drill in my ear.
Then there's the bathroom bombardier in front of me. While she hasn't dropped a stinky load in her pants or anything, she's just on my last nerve. She talks to herself and sings to herself and knocks on wood and taps her pen on her desk and rustles her papers and she laughs with her customers every time she's on the phone. I asked her yesterday "Who were you just talking to? Bill Cosby?" My customers are never very funny. I feel a little short-changed.
Actually, that sentiment kind of sums up my life right now. I feel a little short-changed.