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Thursday, October 22nd, 2009
9:14 pm - bette davis eyes...

sometimes one needs to be reminded what star quality really is....

okay, now I will write tomorrow.

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8:40 pm - down but not out....
I am still here but very sleepy and coming out of a rut. I have much to write but for now, sleep.


current mood: sleepy

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Wednesday, October 7th, 2009
5:33 pm - just the basics...
According to Facebook I have 100 friends, yet I have nothing to do tonight and the only person calling me is my mother who is about three cocktails past her prime. This is forcing me to reevaluate the meaning of the word friend. I reviewed my 100 friends on Facebook and have realized that a) most of them are from high school and b) I was never really buddies with any of them in the first place. Out of the 100 "friends", I knew about 30 of them on a personal level at some juncture of our lives. The rest were just "friended" to see who got fat, who got rich, and who has nine kids and a broken dream. (Oh shut-up , you know you do it...and besides I am sure they wanted to see if I threw myself onto a mattress made of twinkies too.)

Now don't get me wrong, I am actually interested in what people are up to but the convos last about a millisecond and I spend the rest of the time watching people "level up" in Farmville or whatever virtual life game they are playing at the moment. Quite frankly, the virtual world we all live in is far more interesting. I, myself, run a successful restaurant, am a vampire by night, and belong to a sorority where I drive a Bentley, own nine Blackberrys and walk around all day in a Vera Wang evening gown. Top that, reality.

And the simple fact that no one realizes that I left this particular high school to go to private school in my junior year and never graduated with them, pretty much sums up my high school existence. I guess I shouldn't be such a glass-half-empty kind of girl, because we all love the people who remember us when our waists were small, our skin was tight, and our feet weren't so anchored to the ground.

Jesus, how depressing am I?

Where is Ally Sheedy when you need her?

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Tuesday, October 6th, 2009
11:16 pm - Last night I dreamt I went to Manderley again.
I am down with the All About Eve quotes tonight. That can't be a good sign. So here I am...back in the saddle...revisiting the old stomping ground. To quote Tony Orlando and Dawn, "It's been three long years, will you still love me"

I just quoted Tony Orlando. I think I am out of practice.

So it has been so long that there is no point in rehashing the past three years because a) I have to sleep sometime tonight and b) nothing has really changed which is too sad for me to face without some form of alcohol.

So in a nutshell:

I quit my job and got a new, even more boring job doing the same thing. This time, though, my office doesn't have windows. I tell people I am going for the George Orwell look. That way, when they ask who George Orwell is, I can put them on my "don't ever talk to this person for more than 30 seconds" list. Sadly, it is becoming a long list.

Still married.

To the same guy. (what? it is a point that needs to be made)

Still beating my head against the wall to get out of suburbia.

Okay. I shall post tomorrow as I am too tired and just needed to get into the swing of this again. I know I always say that, but this time I mean it. Really...yes, really, I will post again. I may be drunk when I do, but I'll do it. It is amazing the things I can do while holding a glass of wine.

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Friday, July 27th, 2007
4:17 pm - change with out notice....
I'm always typing from work these days. I'm either here too much or I have nothing to do. My bonus sucked but obviously it was that thing I did (or didn't do) that caused much chaos (remember the honeymoon around-the-clock watch)and cut my bonus check to basically nothing. Punish me but for God's sake, don't punish my pocketbook. Oh well, I'm trying to get the fuck out of here anyway, right? I hate it here now, right?


Top Ten reasons I should quit my high-paying,legal job and never look back:

1. My boss blares Journey from his office when he's trying to relax.
2. I thought personal assistant meant I could get a latte, too.
3. When someone asks me to do something, my first thought is to tell them to "fuck off".
4. My ass is now almost as big as the seat of my chair.
5. I turned down oral sex last night because I was too tired to open my legs.
6. I have not seen the sun for three months.
7. I have yet to meet anyone remotely like Jack McCoy.
8. I have no desire to whistle while I work.
9. They are moving my desk to where I can't snap anyone with rubber bands anymore.
10.I have a life, but lost it somewhere on my desk.

On the other hand, I was able to fix my bra strap yesterday with a paper clip. So the supplies are a nice perk.

I really need to bikini it up this weekend at the beach. I'm a little homesick.

current mood: blah

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Thursday, July 26th, 2007
4:44 pm - extra activities available....
I am at work with the sudden urge to sing "Under the Bamboo Tree" at the top of my lungs. You know,the Judy Garland version from "Meet Me in St. Louis".

I think I'll leave early.

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Wednesday, June 20th, 2007
5:34 pm - hard-to-find used, signed, and vintage memorabilia....
Well...I am married.

Nice to meet you.

The wedding went off without a hitch. I am having the announcements printed in a very Charlotte-from-Sex-In-The-City kind of way (oh, a Sex in the City reference, how passe') and my dress has been traded in for a vintage Gucci bondage top and Sonic Youth's Experimental Jet Set cd. I will post the announcement as soon as I get them along with other pics. Nothing like burning the eyes of people who don't care with shit they don't want to see.

Our officiant was fine except for the Apache blessing he threw in at the end. I don't even think it was Apache. I think he just made something up to kill time. Our photographer, whose credits include Time magazine, was annoying as hell. I should have known better than to book someone who doubles as paparazzi, but he made Katie Couric look good for God's sake. And he made Kevin Bacon look like he hasn't had any botox at all. Everybody cut footloose...

While I was on my honeymoon, all hell broke loose at the office and they called me all week long while I was trying to have sex on my honeymoon.(because that is what I've been told you do on a honeymoon...have sex. I assumed everyone knew this. Obviously, I was wrong. Next time I'll send out a memo.) This made me hate my job even more and I carved out some time between oversized martinis to curse them to the high heavens. When I got back they told me (after the finger pointing)that they are moving North. I advised them I would consult my compass. It turns out they may move the office to where I will have to drive an hour and a half everyday to be bored. I can't do this. I tap my foot in front of the microwave. I just don't have it in me.

So here it is, once again...Help Wanted, Female. I don't really mind. It is kind of a relief. I just hope they don't move before Christmas so I can grab my bonus and run. Oh God, when did I start speaking this language? Bonuses, office space,..? Can I just write for a living, please? This corporate desk job crap is killing me...and my skin is suffering as well.

Kitten spit,

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Monday, May 7th, 2007
9:35 am - the distinction between transfer and consolidation...
I'm baaaack!

Try to control yourselves.

Reading over the past entries, I realized that: a. I have not written anything in a close to a year, b. When I do write, I am more than likely pms'ing, and c. I am my own audience which does nothing for my ego.

Well, here is a brief recap of events:

After doing battle with my neighbors, the tumbling Juanitas, who lived upstairs from me and liked to get drunk on cheap rum and body slam the apartment walls, I bought a house with my significant other. I am now in a bungalow in St. Pete where everyone carries Dooney & Burke and barbecues anything they can get their hands on. My house is also sandwiched between a stripper, who long ago gave up any dreams of getting out or moving forward and professional circus clowns(no, I'm not kidding, I have seen the outfits). By the way, they drive compact cars, but not Volkswagon. You can't win 'em all.

The wedding date is June 8th. We are eloping because I couldn't look at one more variation of the orchid without shoving the stems in my ears and screaming. My feet have not been cold for a while, but rather warm and cozy. I am ready to traipse down the sandy beach in an Amy Michelson original, which I plan to Nicole Richie myself right into. Not to be all mushy, but we are very happy. I can't wait to make the transition from whiny, neurotic, single drama-queen to whiny, neurotic, drama-bride in one swoop.

My job is still incredibly boring and I sit next to a women who does nothing but work and tell me about it. I have to keep minimizing this journal entry because she keeps walking over to my desk to tell me things I already know. The atmosphere is better and I am now well liked or at least being faked out enough to where I think I am liked. However, I wish they would give me a three month severance package and send me on my way. Oh, God help me, here she comes again. Take a break, already...

I will write later, I am beat from celebrating the Derby over the weekend and need to get through this day.

Hugs and spanks.

current mood: exhausted

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Saturday, July 22nd, 2006
2:18 pm - professional quality....
Well, tonight is the last adult toy shopping party I throw for a long while. My partner and I have decided to call it quits and will sell off whatever we can to a room full of horny hopeful housewives in an attempt to break even. Apparently it is a party of swinger couples who are going to commence with La Grande Freak after we leave. I have no understanding of it but if they want to give me their money, so be it. I can't wait for this business to be done with. I am so ready to part ways with my partner, I just want to drop the stuff off at her door and run.


I was meant for fashion, not hedonism. Pucci over porn. Vuitton, not vibrators!

All right, I'll stop.

I am over my marriage questions and back to being the blushing, martini-drinking bride we all know and love. Turns out it wasn't cold feet, it was just my period.

Well, off to sell dreams and wishes....

current mood: annoyed

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Wednesday, July 19th, 2006
6:28 pm - contains merchadise from....

I couldn't think of a better entrance.

So here I am alive and, well, sort of kicking. More like tapping with my toes pointed up. Not much here except I have a new job that bores the crap out of me, I went back home two weeks ago only to discover it has become smaller, I hate Florida with a passion now, and I keep going back and forth over whether I should postpone this impending matrimony.

I have a job as a paralegal which means I make copies and point out the obvious on a regular basis. It is fantastically boring and everyone in the office seems to hate me except for my boss and one other person. Usually I am very well liked, so this will take some getting used to. As an attempt to fit in, I thought that maybe I should leave the Vuitton clamshell bag at home in favor of the Target pleather saddlebag that is apparently very popular among the office gals, but I am sure my skin is too sensitive for that atrocious material. So, fuck it, Louis will be my only friend.

Actually, I believe the problem lies with the witch who trained me. She apparently was demoted at the same time I was promoted. Now she is quitting and bad mouthing me. It bothers me because I actually liked her in a kind of Nora Desmond, "I'm ready for my close-up" sort of way. I thought she was going to be that friend I could write Oprah about for a free makeover. Another dream, up in smoke. Boo-fucking-hoo. Her last day is Friday and I am still debating whether to throw a glass of Pellegrino on her to see if she will melt.

My trip home was revealing to say the least. First of all, I realized I was a big whore when I last lived there. Second, being a big whore would not bother me if I had slept with anyone worth a damn. Third, my fiancé was neither impressed nor jealous of my conquests. Damn, and damn.

Seriously, I can't believe I lent my vagina out to such unworthy clientele. If my vagina were a bank, it's commercial would have been one of those "Bad Credit? No problem!" advertisements. Ugh! Talk about desperation rearing it's ugly head. I guess when you are stuck on an island, Darwin's survival theory kicks in and it's every girl for herself.

I saw Chef Stupid, Gay Sex, and the Rain stick boy, (who I am convinced was homeless). I know, Homeless Guy is on the list of MEN YOU SHOULD NEVER DATE right under "serial killer" and "republican" but I didn't know he was living a'la concrete when I met him. Shut-up, he had an enormous penis. Coincidently, he is also the only one who slipped me his number. This makes me think he is still homeless and needs a place to stay.

The fiancé impressed the homestead and we both looked dashing driving around in the 300 series. We were seriously out of place everywhere we went and the only thing I liked about the whole trip was the ocean and my family. I guess I still dream of Manhattan or at least a small town within a 40 mile radius of Barneys.

I did not see snowboarding, motorcycle-riding, bartender guy, though he has opened up his own place on the beach. It has not been well received by the locals which means I will love it. I don't know why I didn't stop in. I find myself thinking of him a lot lately.

Which brings me to....

So I have cold feet, though I love him with all my heart. He is a moody bastard which gets on my nerves because I AM MOODY DAMMIT! I need someone who can baby-sit all of my personalities. I just think I may be in for a life of wonderful family and Americana and barbecues, and budget-stretching. It is all wonderfully....mundane. Of course, at 36 years of age, I am hardly going to conquer the fast lane. I would have done that already, right? Right now I am just conquering the middle lane with the option to merge in either direction.
So why am I set on the New Years parties in South Beach this year?

There is something wrong with me...

I mean I am thirty-six. I have a twenty-one year old boyfriend who proposed to me. (By the way, I chose a 3.8 carat oval sapphire with 1.5 carat diamond trillions on each side. Soooo vintage Cartier....Oh my God, do you see what I mean about myself?) I mean, how very Demi and Ashton of us, really. So he is moody. So I have to yell at him every once in awhile to stop being so sarcastic over and over again.

I need to reevaluate or call Montel.

All right, my little friends, I must retire this entry. It's been real.

Remember, if you can't be with the one you love, honey then at least get his credit card for a pair of Manolos and a butterfly vibrator until he gets back.

current mood: gloomy

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Saturday, February 25th, 2006
4:21 am - it had to be me....
hello dahlings....

Not to much to report. My old boyfriend from exactly one million years ago has stuck me with a $1,000 electricity bill. (he rents the house in NC that I used to live in and never bothered to tell me that the bill never transferred to his name after I moved out. drama. don't ask.) I've been obsessing about Jackie Kennedy Onnasis as of late. I cut my hair and dyed it a color I shall call "kind of red". I'm ditching on my new job tomorrow with some outlandish excuse. I really want a roomba. I keep eating chicken wings.

Other than that...

I've been getting really, really retro lately. It's been all cherries and heels. I don't know why. i've been getting these weird obsessions lately that I just can't stop dancing around. It could be the obscene amount of wine I've been drinking is making me a little crazy. I'm seriously going in to Dorothy Parker after the round table mode when she was just throwing them back and chastising everyone. I think it's life telling me to change it up before I crash and burn.

Either that or I'm freaking out that I'm 36 and look like I'm twelve.

Or I just love that Pinot Grigio.

It's the pinot grigio.

I want to move to Manhattan.

current mood: awake

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Sunday, February 12th, 2006
11:49 pm - terms and conditions....
God help me, I had another birthday.

....and I'm getting married.

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Sunday, January 15th, 2006
3:24 pm - extra coverage....
God help me, but I am doing it again. Sick of the space I'm in. You know I can't stay in one place forever or I go fucking nuts. Well, here I am...fucking nuts. N. is talking about buying a home together and I feel like I'm going to throw up from nerves. I want to do it but I'm so fucking scared of binding myself up like that. It's not him, it's the thought of being stuck in one area for an ungodly amount of time that scares the crap right out of me. I don't even like having this much furniture because it won't fit in the backseat of my car. I mean, I like that I can pack up and leave at any moment and start a brand new life. I like changing myself every two years or so. What's wrong with that? So here is the dilemma. How do you commit to someone for life yet still keep your fly-by-night ways? don't and that PISSES ME OFF.

I'm so fucking bored.

I was surfing the net last night (because I can't surf waves here...grrrr) and I'm coming up on all these cool poetry sites and art and literature and basically everything I love. I realized as I'm devouring information that I have not had one enjoyable conversation in eons. Not one conversation that I was excited to a part of. You know those engaging conversations where everything just interests you and it feels like you've been chatting for twenty minutes but it's really been four hours. The conversations where you find yourself saying, "Oh my God, we've been here this long? I didn't even notice the time." Those crazy, stimulating round table discussions where wit is a requirement and your opinions are formed in the moment and you actually amaze yourself. God I miss that. I really miss that. I don't think I have had people in my life like that in 15 years. Where did they all go? Did reality tv become their news and now current events are the stories on Inside Edition? Did they trade in NPR for Howard Stern? Did money and security swallow their minds in one big, obsessive gulp? Do they now actually care about what people think of them?

Do they watch ESPN as much as my boyfriend does and clap when some oversized human makes a "good play"?

I swear I am shutting down...again.

current mood: uncomfortable

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Thursday, November 10th, 2005
3:54 pm - please keep this for your records....
I have been sitting here wasting the last two hours on my couch with a little, black "I hate work" cloud over my head when all of a sudden I remembered my promise to the cyber universe that I would write in my journal.

So here I am.



Vegas was a blast except for my friend's ex-boyfriend, (notice he is now an ex) who should go in to the Guinness Book of World Records as the biggest asshole on two legs. Not only did he puss out on half the activities, but he drove us out to bum fuck desert Vegas to go to some outlet mall and ride a carnie roller coaster. I hate roller coasters. If I'm going to choose to be strapped down for a wild ride, I better have an orgasm. So the whole time we are walking around Vegas suburbia, all I could think about was all the panty-catching elvises and glittered boobies I was missing on the strip. We finally get back and N. and I successfully ditch them to go collect hooker business cards from underpaid illegal aliens so I can turn them into coasters when we get back home. (They turned out quite lovely, if I do say so myself) He wouldn't even go to see a show b/c it was to expensive. This from a guy who dropped 500 in 10 mins at a roulette table. Needless to say we spent seven hours out of the 4 days we were there with them. The rest of the time I stumbled around various casinos demanding free Heinekens.

Other than that....

I'm still at the bar slinging drinks to those who should have jumped on the wagon years ago. The sex toy business is going well. I finally got the office done so now all the dildos and vibrators have there own room. Occasionally one still rolls out from under the sofa but I'm getting pretty good at kicking them out of eyesight. My business partner is a bigger slacker than I am (yes it is possible) which means I have been experiencing this weird sense of responsibility lately. I wave papers around a lot and talk about profit margins. I'm not sure I like it. I also keep ripping off my own inventory, chalking my thievery up to product testing. Dealers should never use....dealers should never use....

I need to do something artistic before I lose myself completely.I really hate my job and I don't think the money is worth it anymore. I can't seem to get hired anywhere. I'm like a disease when it comes to a career. You know, I've been happier with my life at times when I didn't even have a job. What do you think that means?

back to the trenches...

current mood: tired

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Friday, November 4th, 2005
4:06 pm - contents marked with country of orgin...
I am the biggest slacker in the whole world and this entry will be no exception.

I'm just letting you all know that I am still exsisting here in my little rat hole apartment. I have decided that I will grace Live Journal with my chatter at least once a week,(i know, i know...calm down). I miss all my Live Journal buddies, well the one that I have, and I have developed a weird disgust for all my current friends. It could just be my overwhelming sense of boredom with all that is familiar, or it could just be PMS. You decide.

Anyway, I am still in love and everything is blissful except when I get my hands on a bottle of Santa Margharita Pinot Grigio, (in which all drunken hell breaks loose). Our Vegas trip was eventful and I have many tales to spin but it will have to wait until I get home from this slave-driving waitress gig I currently have.

Who wants to sell their used panties on the internet?

I do! I do!

I always wanted to work from home.

current mood: exhausted

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Sunday, July 17th, 2005
4:43 pm - take pride in sponsoring...
Hello little ones. I've missed you all. I apologize for my absence but I have a good excuse. It's hard to type when you are having rockin sex.

Yes, I am still in relationship bliss with my barely legal, Kentucky-lovin boy and all I can say is Yee-fuckin-haw. We will be going to Vegas for his birthday in August and plan to ring in his 21st in a whirlwind of green felt, fat Elvises and .99cent buffets. I'm even planning to mask my fear of flying(erica jong where are you) with a crapper full of Xanax. This must be love.

I am also starting my own adult toy business with a blonde swinger chick, who shall be referred to as "C". No, I don't swing (nor will I ever) but her stories are a blast and I now get dildos at rock-bottom prices. Who could say no to that? You know me, always on the look out for a bargain.

I have more love to spread but I'm off to see Johnny Depp morph once again on IMAX so I will write later. Until then, be kind to your oompa loompa.

current mood: chipper

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Wednesday, March 16th, 2005
12:58 am - absence makes the heart grow fonder....
Heeeelllloooo kiddies!

It's been a helluva long time but I have a great excuse. I'm in love with an incredibly cute, phenomenally sweet, and dangerously young boy. I don't care what you say, the sex is fantastic and I'm pretty sure they can hear my orgasmic screams all the way to Calcutta. So here's to you, Mrs. Robinson....


So much has happened. I have moved into trendy neighborhood Tampa where everyone jogs and gets tan and wears a lot of Coach. Our apartment, (That's right. I said "OUR" apartment. I'm living with the embryo and it is bliss, spank you very much), is way too small and the rent is way too high. I'm back at my old job, still trying to save money for school, still trying to figure out how I'm going to get my furniture moved from bum fuck NC, and I now have TIVO.

I also have told motorcycle-riding, snowboarding, bartender guy that I am seeing someone. How about that? And...Gay Sex was given the news flash as well. How about THAT? So I must be a serious little bug about this and it better work out because this is the only time two summer OBX guys have ever continued to call me after I have left the beach, goddammit! One is a financial advisor (apparently, Gay Sex got a bomb-ass job after grad) and the other just has his shit together. BUT....I am in love so I had to cut them off. Besides, motorcycle-riding, snowboarding bartender guy kept making references to me standing naked while holding a Via Spiaga bag. Yeah, I don't know either.

So here are a few facts about the man who tamed the wild beast...

He is a field engineer which means he knows way too much about dirt.
He used to race cars (of course)
He is from Kentucky but has all his teeth and, as far as I know, has never dated anyone remotely related to him.
He tells me I'm beautiful all the time (sigh)
He is rugged movie star cute.
He tells me he loves me all the time (double sigh)
He's twenty. (thought I'd save the best for last)

Yes, I know, how very Demi and Ashton of us but damn the naysayers, this feels really good. And it's been five months so far which beats my track record all to hell.

What a guy....

Toodles, my loves, it's sleepy time....

current mood: rejuvenated

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Tuesday, December 7th, 2004
6:58 pm - back in the saddle again....
quick note...

I'm back in the sunshine state.

I'm going to live here.

I met a phenomonal guy who (holy shit on a stick!) loves me and I looooove him. lalalalalalala....

I will write an entry later full of my usual adventures.

float on....

current mood: happy

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Tuesday, October 5th, 2004
9:27 pm - bang-a-gong....
First off: I slept with the snowboarding, motorcycle-riding bartender guy. Second, It was fabulous and I am now in like. Third, I think I pulled my back out during orgasm.

I'll write later.

current mood: thankful

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Friday, October 1st, 2004
2:17 pm
is this all there is?

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