I realize and feel guilty about the fact that it is pretty unfair to write a blog entry about feeling depressed that may cause concern among readers and then fail to follow up on it for two months. The whole blog deal is much different than I anticipated because my tendency, when I write in journal format, is to vent, and I'm not used to having an audience for that. So...apologies. Of course, it may be that everyone has given up on reading my blog because it's lain dormant for so long. If you're still checking up on it, then bully for you and, also, thank you. I'm very flattered.
I've been feeling fine for some time now, despite the fact that my job is horrific and that even though I'm switching to a new job I will like I'm still worried about it all because I won't be making any money. By most standards. It's a situation where I should count my blessings that I'll have a cool job and still be able to pay rent, but, basically, once you start buying $80 jeans, it's hard to go back. So I screwed myself over and it's true what Jo says...you can never have enough money. It just breeds need.
It makes me want to run away and be like my friend Reba in the Peace Corps, even though I'm not the biggest fan of the Peace Corps. I am a huge fan of Reba and I wish I could travel like her and be happy finding revelations in the Moroccan dirt. Sometimes I want to blame my parents for raising me a princess but the truth is that they gave me matchbox cars and all I wanted was party dresses.
This entry is much more whistful than I wanted it to be.
Today I cut accross Manhattan with my boyfriend (accompanied, at first, by the delicious BB and the stylish flizzbot), then took the bus to Queens and kept walking. It's extremely sunny today and only a little brisk in the breeze (there's so much more breeze in Queens) and I stopped at the tiny healthfood store and got bulk ingredients to make granola so I am feeling rather wholesome and like I am doing my hippie parents proud.
Tonight I am going to try to get a bartending job and then I am going to a party where I won't be able to stay long because I'm getting up early early fucking early in the morning to go snowboarding. They will be raffling off things like full-body-massages at this party but, luckily, you don't have to be there to win.
Did you hear? dkixk is coming to visit!
that is all for now. i'm going to tak a nap.
love,
mop.
I've been feeling fine for some time now, despite the fact that my job is horrific and that even though I'm switching to a new job I will like I'm still worried about it all because I won't be making any money. By most standards. It's a situation where I should count my blessings that I'll have a cool job and still be able to pay rent, but, basically, once you start buying $80 jeans, it's hard to go back. So I screwed myself over and it's true what Jo says...you can never have enough money. It just breeds need.
It makes me want to run away and be like my friend Reba in the Peace Corps, even though I'm not the biggest fan of the Peace Corps. I am a huge fan of Reba and I wish I could travel like her and be happy finding revelations in the Moroccan dirt. Sometimes I want to blame my parents for raising me a princess but the truth is that they gave me matchbox cars and all I wanted was party dresses.
This entry is much more whistful than I wanted it to be.
Today I cut accross Manhattan with my boyfriend (accompanied, at first, by the delicious BB and the stylish flizzbot), then took the bus to Queens and kept walking. It's extremely sunny today and only a little brisk in the breeze (there's so much more breeze in Queens) and I stopped at the tiny healthfood store and got bulk ingredients to make granola so I am feeling rather wholesome and like I am doing my hippie parents proud.
Tonight I am going to try to get a bartending job and then I am going to a party where I won't be able to stay long because I'm getting up early early fucking early in the morning to go snowboarding. They will be raffling off things like full-body-massages at this party but, luckily, you don't have to be there to win.
Did you hear? dkixk is coming to visit!
that is all for now. i'm going to tak a nap.
love,
mop.
I've just finished my taxes and I've discovered that I now officially make less than the average american. Suffice it to say, the average person makes an AGI of $35,000. Ouch. Does my job really make me THAT happy? If I weren't single, would that be different? Would I have to make more? Less? ARGH!
Still, I have to admit the idea of you bar-tending is quite fetching. You'll have to let me know where so you can buy me that drink you owe me (on the cheep if you're behind the bar!)