heathermarie

Send me some pictures. Maybe we can swap money for pics.

[Edited on Jul 25, 2004 12:56PM]

aww, thanks for adding me sweetie.

You made my year..seriously.

How do I get to your yahoo group?

WooHa! Got you all in check. Heh, not really. Hadn't posted to your journal for a while... just sayin' hi and making sure you're still hot.

:checks teh hot pics:

mmm. yup!
Have a great weekend.

CRAZY!!! I would just slowly walk away (backwards)

Change your name , move towns , do whatever it takes he's nuts and its such a sad come on line " I've done this crazy thing, here's my picture go out with me" block his emails tell him to get fucked he keeps it up report him to the cops or who ever.
Its just what i think .

My best goes out to them.

I hope for the best. That's really terrible to see. That SOB will get his.

Damn what a lucky guy I wish I was him (imagining the posabilities)HMMM
Must be nice

Take care kid

-SUPERMAN-

Rain, rain at night on the outside of my tent when I dream, rain that makes me dream of hail that is falling and not stopping, rain that comes into the windows of my house and what? soaks the oak floors, rain - delicious, maddening rain.

I know you are reading this poem
late, before leaving your office
of the one intense yellow lamp-spot and the darkening window
in the lassitude of a building faded to quiet
long after rush-hour. I know you are reading this poem
standing up in a bookstore far from the ocean
on a grey day of early spring, faint flakes driven
across the plains' enormous spaces around you.
I know you are reading this poem
in a room where too much has happened for you to bear
where the bedclothes lie in stagnant coils on the bed
and the open valise speaks of flight
but you cannot leave yet. I know you are reading this poem
as the underground train loses momentum and before running
up the stairs
toward a new kind of love
your life has never allowed.
I know you are reading this poem by the light
of the television screen where soundless images jerk and slide
while you wait for the newscast from the intifada.
I know you are reading this poem in a waiting-room
of eyes met and unmeeting, of identity with strangers.
I know you are reading this poem by fluorescent light
in the boredom and fatigue of the young who are counted out,
count themselves out, at too early an age. I know
you are reading this poem through your failing sight, the thick
lens enlarging these letters beyond all meaning yet you read on
because even the alphabet is precious.
I know you are reading this poem as you pace beside the stove
warming milk, a crying child on your shoulder, a book in your
hand
because life is short and you too are thirsty.
I know you are reading this poem which is not in your language
guessing at some words while others keep you reading
and I want to know which words they are.
I know you are reading this poem listening for something, torn
between bitterness and hope
turning back once again to the task you cannot refuse.
I know you are reading this poem because there is nothing else
left to read
there where you have landed, stripped as you are.

From an Atlas of a Difficult World
Adrianne Rich

I have a bunch of friends that have had luck with temp agencies, if you haven't tried that might not be a bad idea.

Job hunting is the worst!

believe it or not.. I had an opportunity to work at a MAC counter here in OKC..... I was kinda excited.. the whole idea sounded great... apparenttly there were no guys working in oklahoma at MAC.. so they wanted to hire a guy.. I went through the entiere interview process. even got a list of things to wear and not to wear.. the whole bit...plus i was the only guy.. to make a long story short.. I got in an argument with the girl that got me the interview... so.. well.. that didn't really help.. so i didn't get a job.. they ended up hiring some sorority looking girls instead...

sorry to hear about your bad $$ situation. I'd help but I dont' really know ya.

Whoot!

Woo! Yay! congrats.