Tuesday, June 09, 2009
Genius From Letters From London
I gotta say, I love that girl's blog. She's an amazing writer. Can someone convince her to publish? I'm a little intimidated that she's a real person. Couldn't she be famous and untouchable so I can just enjoy her fucking blog?
Existentialism, Transcripts and Porn
So, so, so many things. Might have to do a point form again as my mind is in a strange place due to caffeine. Sorry it's been so long, first of all.
* EG came to visit and it was great. Sex was fucking wicked, talks were good. Very few tears, despite the reintroduction of the evil pill into my system. The only tears were because he loudly said I was just like his mum while on the phone with his dad who is constantly frustrated by his mum...So I immediately thought his dad would hate me and warn EG against me and then EG said that was crazy, that nobody else thought that way (even though 2 of my friends saw my point immediately) and that it was just a reflex to be annoyed when anyone mumbled instructions while he's on the phone. Fair point, I hate when people do that to me. I was just trying to help and I never did it before or after! So we both apologised and both forgave and everything was fine over spaghetti bolognese and wine. No wine, really, but it was a nice little rhyme.
* EG had to leave early because he had a BIG interview to be a lecturer at his old university! He's not even done his masters yet, and he's interviewing to be a lecturer! He's just 24! anyway, his laptop got a virus meaning a lot of dough went right out the fucking window to fix it. Then, because of the virus, he lost his office package and we had to buy him one of those to prepare for the interview. Then we had to get him a suit for the interview! That's some serious fucking wonga! Buuuuut -- all worth it because he GOT THE JOB! He's thrilled and I'm thrilled which leads me to...
*I'm moving to England in September. FINALLY. f-i-n-a-l-l-y! I'm gonna try to get a working holiday visa, find a job, move in with EG and make this thing happen! He's so excited, he can't stop looking at places and sending me links! It's gonna be amazing! I reallllly cannot express my excitement enough. No need to fantasise even because reality is so freaking sweet!
* I type transcripts all day, every day. I drank a biiiig cup of quite strong coffee last night at midnight to stay up late to do them. It made it kind of fun. I felt great this morning on only 4 hours sleep! But I felt awful around 5pm...Not learning anyone else's lesson of BACKING UP WORK, I lost 40 hours of typing and have to do it again. It has to be completely finished by Sunday. There aren't enough hours! I hate it a lot! On the other hand...
*I'm probably gonna put an ad on craigslist saying I'll do transcripts for relatively cheap. Lots of extra cash, and I can work naked in bed if I want. Any job where I can work naked in bed...wait...how can I backpedal out of this statement?
*EG got me into the UK Apprentice. Thank God it's over, 'cause I fucking loved it. I usually HATE reality TV, but man was this good. The suspence was terrible! (I hope it'll last...)
*EG thinks I'm an existentialist. He has yet to tell me why. Isn't Simone De Beauvoir an existentialist? Neenia, don't you know about her? what's the dealio, yo? Is it true? He's so smart, my big strong man...He's getting really into philosophy. He started out getting a (first class) degree in Football Studies and now he's gonna be a Sociology lecturer. And he'll get his PhD eventually...Dr English Gentleman...Mrs Dr English Gentleman...sounds wicked...
*My computer is now Windows as opposed to Linux (the switch was how I lost my 40 hours of work...) which means I can do lots of things I couldn't before. I can download Harry Potter audio books on bit torrent, I can use microsoft word, itunes, I can play pet society again on facebook, I have media player and ... I can watch a lot more porn. I'm already bored with it though. I'm back to erotic stories. Always more creative and less leggy-blondes. sigh, can't wait til regular sex is in my life again...
*I really want to be in another musicall. Hair, please. The passion in it, in most of the songs, always gets to me. There's just something about it. I really think I belong in that show, at least once, I don't care who I am. Well, I'd obviously love to be Genie. I think I'll try and put it on in Southampton.
*I'm a little noivous that I won't have friends in Southampton...I'll make some though, right? There's theatre there, and that's all I need, right? There's theatre there, right?
* I need to type more and go to sleeeep.
*Last September, I weighed myself at a friend's house and this particular scale had little colourful markers so you can set goals and stuff, mark where you're at at one point in time. So the red was where I weighed in September and the blue was where I wanted to be. I went there last week and -- I surpassed the blue! This is wicked! I weigh what it says on my resume now! So I can lower what it says on my resume! I just have to maintain when I go to England...nothing's like BC for losing weight and being healthy so I reeeeally need to make sure I don't slip into gross habits...today I ate 7 cookies...
*I watched some Travesty stuff online just now and was proud of myself! I sound good, we all do! I was really upset and uncomfortable with my performance in that show at the time, for some reason, because, watching it now, it was great! The thing is, why aren't there any comments on youtube? veeery few people commented on like, two of them! I want more, my ego needs petting!
* I'm twenty-six. There's no denying the grown-upness of that statement. Twenty-six years old is an ADULT's age. When I was younger, not much younger, I was sure I'd have kids/be famous by now. All these expectations, why do we do it to ourselves? Oh, I know, because we see other poeple do things and then think it's possible but what we don't know is, time flies. and then you're twenty six. Not a mother, not a working actress. I have plans, that's all. I'm not gonna get depressed because I was feeling really hopeful like a minute ago. But it's just weird. I graduated at twenty one... How do you measure a year in the life? No, I know how -- measure in love. Not cheesy. It's the way I want to live, the way I believe is right. The question is, how do you get people (like my mother) to measure in love?
Taking stock of what I have and what I haven't...
Daylights, sunsets, midnights, cups of coffee,
inches (lost!), miles, laughter and strife...
Another year of that. How lucky am I?
* EG came to visit and it was great. Sex was fucking wicked, talks were good. Very few tears, despite the reintroduction of the evil pill into my system. The only tears were because he loudly said I was just like his mum while on the phone with his dad who is constantly frustrated by his mum...So I immediately thought his dad would hate me and warn EG against me and then EG said that was crazy, that nobody else thought that way (even though 2 of my friends saw my point immediately) and that it was just a reflex to be annoyed when anyone mumbled instructions while he's on the phone. Fair point, I hate when people do that to me. I was just trying to help and I never did it before or after! So we both apologised and both forgave and everything was fine over spaghetti bolognese and wine. No wine, really, but it was a nice little rhyme.
* EG had to leave early because he had a BIG interview to be a lecturer at his old university! He's not even done his masters yet, and he's interviewing to be a lecturer! He's just 24! anyway, his laptop got a virus meaning a lot of dough went right out the fucking window to fix it. Then, because of the virus, he lost his office package and we had to buy him one of those to prepare for the interview. Then we had to get him a suit for the interview! That's some serious fucking wonga! Buuuuut -- all worth it because he GOT THE JOB! He's thrilled and I'm thrilled which leads me to...
*I'm moving to England in September. FINALLY. f-i-n-a-l-l-y! I'm gonna try to get a working holiday visa, find a job, move in with EG and make this thing happen! He's so excited, he can't stop looking at places and sending me links! It's gonna be amazing! I reallllly cannot express my excitement enough. No need to fantasise even because reality is so freaking sweet!
* I type transcripts all day, every day. I drank a biiiig cup of quite strong coffee last night at midnight to stay up late to do them. It made it kind of fun. I felt great this morning on only 4 hours sleep! But I felt awful around 5pm...Not learning anyone else's lesson of BACKING UP WORK, I lost 40 hours of typing and have to do it again. It has to be completely finished by Sunday. There aren't enough hours! I hate it a lot! On the other hand...
*I'm probably gonna put an ad on craigslist saying I'll do transcripts for relatively cheap. Lots of extra cash, and I can work naked in bed if I want. Any job where I can work naked in bed...wait...how can I backpedal out of this statement?
*EG got me into the UK Apprentice. Thank God it's over, 'cause I fucking loved it. I usually HATE reality TV, but man was this good. The suspence was terrible! (I hope it'll last...)
*EG thinks I'm an existentialist. He has yet to tell me why. Isn't Simone De Beauvoir an existentialist? Neenia, don't you know about her? what's the dealio, yo? Is it true? He's so smart, my big strong man...He's getting really into philosophy. He started out getting a (first class) degree in Football Studies and now he's gonna be a Sociology lecturer. And he'll get his PhD eventually...Dr English Gentleman...Mrs Dr English Gentleman...sounds wicked...
*My computer is now Windows as opposed to Linux (the switch was how I lost my 40 hours of work...) which means I can do lots of things I couldn't before. I can download Harry Potter audio books on bit torrent, I can use microsoft word, itunes, I can play pet society again on facebook, I have media player and ... I can watch a lot more porn. I'm already bored with it though. I'm back to erotic stories. Always more creative and less leggy-blondes. sigh, can't wait til regular sex is in my life again...
*I really want to be in another musicall. Hair, please. The passion in it, in most of the songs, always gets to me. There's just something about it. I really think I belong in that show, at least once, I don't care who I am. Well, I'd obviously love to be Genie. I think I'll try and put it on in Southampton.
*I'm a little noivous that I won't have friends in Southampton...I'll make some though, right? There's theatre there, and that's all I need, right? There's theatre there, right?
* I need to type more and go to sleeeep.
*Last September, I weighed myself at a friend's house and this particular scale had little colourful markers so you can set goals and stuff, mark where you're at at one point in time. So the red was where I weighed in September and the blue was where I wanted to be. I went there last week and -- I surpassed the blue! This is wicked! I weigh what it says on my resume now! So I can lower what it says on my resume! I just have to maintain when I go to England...nothing's like BC for losing weight and being healthy so I reeeeally need to make sure I don't slip into gross habits...today I ate 7 cookies...
*I watched some Travesty stuff online just now and was proud of myself! I sound good, we all do! I was really upset and uncomfortable with my performance in that show at the time, for some reason, because, watching it now, it was great! The thing is, why aren't there any comments on youtube? veeery few people commented on like, two of them! I want more, my ego needs petting!
* I'm twenty-six. There's no denying the grown-upness of that statement. Twenty-six years old is an ADULT's age. When I was younger, not much younger, I was sure I'd have kids/be famous by now. All these expectations, why do we do it to ourselves? Oh, I know, because we see other poeple do things and then think it's possible but what we don't know is, time flies. and then you're twenty six. Not a mother, not a working actress. I have plans, that's all. I'm not gonna get depressed because I was feeling really hopeful like a minute ago. But it's just weird. I graduated at twenty one... How do you measure a year in the life? No, I know how -- measure in love. Not cheesy. It's the way I want to live, the way I believe is right. The question is, how do you get people (like my mother) to measure in love?
Taking stock of what I have and what I haven't...
Daylights, sunsets, midnights, cups of coffee,
inches (lost!), miles, laughter and strife...
Another year of that. How lucky am I?
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