I mopped the kitchen today. It was insane. I have a confession to make: I don't think I have ever mopped a floor more than once in any of the apartments I've lived in. I suppose that makes me a disgusting, dirty creature, but I suppose I just don't care. Still, it is nice to know that the floor is clean. Well, cleanER, anyway. There are scuff marks and strange spots that just will not come out, no matter how much Mr. Clean is applied. But at least it has been scrubbed a little. The bathroom has also been cleaned. Now if I could just figure out how to vacuum my tiny box of a room, I'd be set.

I bought two sets of flannel sheets today. One is pale green and the other is forest green. I was hoping for navy blue, or possibly even maroon, but all they had at Ghetto K were the greens and these weird pale blue patterned ones and these Christmas tree outdoor scene ones, both icky. So hopefully my bed will be warmer tonight with these warmer sheets.

My sweaters are still drying. I washed them by hand yesterday. They take fucking forever to dry out, so my roommates are kind of annoyed that they're still hanging around and drying, ghetto style, on the wooden rack. Oh well.

Back to work tomorrow. Yippee. I really have to come up with something to do while I'm there, cus shooting computerized pool ain't cutting it. Perhaps I will tell outrageous lies to the people who call in. One of the women told me to tell a girl from the DC office that she quit, cus she didn't want to speak to her anymore. The girl was like, "What?? But I just talked to her this morning!!" I assured her that she had, indeed, quit. There were two guys standing in the room as I did this, and they were like, "What are you doing?!" I told them after I hung up, and they just laughed. My co-workers are all insane. One of them told me to page him when his lunch came, and I thought he was talking about a print-job cus I was standing at the printer at the time. Oy. And the only cool guy at work just quit. It fucking figures. But I have his skateboard, and he has my number. See... the office manager was cleaning out the front closet, cus it's going to be knocked out along with most of the office, and she asked if anybody knew whose skateboard it was. The guy who owned it had gone home for the day, and she asked if anyone wanted it. I said I did, so I took it home with me on Thursday. Then on Friday he came in and looked in the closet and said, "What the fuck??" I asked if he was looking for something, and he said yeah, his skateboad. I said I took it home with me. So he asked if I could please bring it back. I think I am going to hold it hostage until he makes a pilgrimage to the Bronx to retrieve it. Hey, man, I can't carry all of this stuff to work. A bag, a skateboard, and like... a soda? That's crazy.

Anyway.

Jesse seems to think that chicks my age who only have male friends are sketchy or slutty or something. To be honest, I'd like some female friends to do stupid shit with, like going shopping or what the fuck ever. But most of the girls I meet annoy me. They are either girly-girls who need to spend three hours getting ready to go out of the house to buy something at the corner store, or else they are just vapid and boring and let guys manipulate them. Where are all the chicks who kick ass? Maybe I should hang out with feminists or something.

I hear Bj�rk's new album rocks. Garbage's new album, however, seems pretty suckulent. Well, at least that song about androgeny, anyway. Shirley, darling, why did you cut off your gorgeous red locks?!

I am never cutting my hair again until it reaches my waist and I can have Princess Leia braids.

This is too fucking ridiculous. Goodnight.

CREDITS:
powered by d*land