it's not my birthday, that's myth and rumor
[2003-07-10 - 1:00 a.m.]

My house smells like a gigantic hunk of gorgonzola cheese.

This would be good if I could find the hunk of cheese and eat it. Can I? Of course not. Why? Because it doesn't exist. ONLY the smell exists. So, I seriously think someone got drunk and threw up somewhere, and hid it.

In the mean time, we (B-fugly and me) are enduring the odor up here in my room.

"You have pretty hair," it cooed.

"EVERYONE says that," I moaned, rolling my eyes despite facing in the opposite direction. They say that you should use as much body language as needed to express a thought, even when talking on the phone, because the subtle gestures can indeed be heard somehow in delivery.

"Don't roll your eyes at me," B-fugly said, "when all I did was compliment you. Shoot....what hair you still have, I should say," and he sniggered.

"Do you realize that I weight 1 zillion percent more than you do?"

"Oh babydoll, don't even take us there, puh-leeese," came next, complete with effeminate gestures and head snap for punctuation.

"Look, you might be a little black thing, but you're not THAT kind of little black thing, so quit. ANd you're missing the point. I just threatened you and now you should do the reasonable thing and beg for your life, Q U I E T L Y."

I'm glad he didn't. I hate begging. Today at the dentist's office, I felt like I was begging for the priveledge of having my jaw needled and screwed and drilled and yanked as the dentist will be putting the permanent cap on my left bottom molar. I hadn't paid the balance on my account, so they didn't call to tell me the 'piece' was in.

It's ok. I got to see Damien in person. That sustained me for a few hours this morning. We like each other, but nothing's going to ever come of it. Which is fine, tho. I'm liking life just the way it is.

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