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"Shut up, I'm Talking" and other diplomacy lessons I learned in the Israeli government
I'm going to keep talking about the nonexistant natural period I'm waiting for until I get it. Just to warn you.
I have nice skin. Everyone has something nice about them. I like my skin. My hormones don't know what the fuck is going on. They are in a state of chaos and confusion. I have little breakouts happening. This drives me a little bananas.
I bought some anti acne face wash, and the skin around my eyes gets very sore and dry from it. I put eyecream on half hour ago because I'm 27 now and I think this is around the time I could expect wrinkles or something, says cosmoallureellewmarieclairevogue even though I never see sunlight and still look 22. But the eyecream didn't really soothe and I ran around screaming from the burn. This must be what a chemical peel feels like. I soothed it my rubbing olive oil around my eyes. Now my vision is tainted with olive oil. Th more I rub my eyes the more my lenses are oiled.
I might live in Harlem with a 28 year old and her 4 year old daughter.
I've become a craigslist beast at work. Perusing nonstop. I'm obsessed. Bestfriend said she really enjoyed apartment hunting. Seeing people's homes.. she said she'd like to do it again just for the hell of it.
Between her job and D's, I've walked around empty offices and looking at peoples cubicles. Not snooping, just looking at their notes and handwriting and pictures their kids drew, cartoons, and pictures from the company christmas party. Lives. Weird.
I'm going on a masturbation hiatus. I think I do it too much. Not even because I'm horny but out of habbit. Much like weed. I don't need it but I have it and it helps me sleep. I'm a terrible sleeper. So the combination of these two work like magic, but I still think it's getting a little ridic.
I let D. know this, I let him know this vibrator embargo was starting and that I was making his life and his cock's life, much easier. He can thank me later.
I was at a gathering this evening. And I was talking about how I hate art. ( well not really but something like that)
I was talking to this bald man with black glasses. He looked like the guy from that game where you drag metal crumbs to create hair. What game was that again? .....and then the scent of shit wafted into my nostrils. I became silent. I looked at the soles of my black reeboks thinking somewhere along the way I stepped in dog poo. No this was FRESH.fresh fresh fresh fresh fresh!!!
It had to be one of two women in their 80's. No one said a goddam thing. Laughter ensued. I looked around suspiciously. Did I shit myself? I must leave here immediately!! I was panicking. I had a panick attack knowing that this poor 84 year old woman was incontinent. She could have excused herself.. or something. I don't know what its like shitting during a dinner party, and goddess forbid should I ever know what its like. I excused myself and ran to the kitchen and stuck my head out the window into the cool breeze while bestfriend calmed me.
"Think of the humor! the humor in this story!"
We both like to laugh at horrible and absurd things.
are we bad people?
the world is horrible and absurd right? may as well get as much joy from laughing about it as possible. I need to wash my face again I can barely see through this film of olive oil.
I need a new job.
11:58 p.m. - 2008-05-01
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